


Wine From Your Tears

by Annie_Is_A_Contranym



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Children, Divorce, Established Relationship, Gay Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-07-03
Packaged: 2018-01-11 22:27:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 33,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1178701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annie_Is_A_Contranym/pseuds/Annie_Is_A_Contranym
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been almost two years since Stiles and Derek ended their marriage and they have the routine of exes down to a science. Custody of the kids is shared but they live at home with Stiles, Derek having as much access as he desires short of living in the house with them. Stiles would never keep Derek from his kids and there are days that feel like they are still husbands caring for their family together only they barely see each other, Stiles can't even remember what sex feels like and when they do talk it's always gruff and a few words short of a fight. So yeah...pretty much exactly like when they were married.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I was standing, You were there

**Author's Note:**

> The structure of the story will follow a "Now/Then" format for most chapters (until the timelines converge). Then it'll just be wrapping up the "Now" story at the end. I hope you enjoy it. Please, take a moment to tell me what you think. I'd really love some feedback.

** Now: **

 

It's been almost two years since Stiles and Derek ended their marriage and they have the routine of exes down to a science. Custody of the kids is shared but they live at home with Stiles, Derek having as much access as he desires short of living in the house with them. Stiles would never keep Derek from his kids and there are days that feel like they are still husbands caring for their family together only they barely see each other, Stiles can't even remember what sex feels like and when they do talk it's always gruff and a few words short of a fight. So yeah...pretty much exactly like when they were married.  

This morning though, Stiles was very much aware of how not married he and Derek were. Standing in the kitchen, gripping his mug of coffee, he looked down at the newspaper spread out on the kitchen island before him. In the society pages, gleaming up at him in glossy colour no less, was a picture of Derek escorting a beautiful woman out of a restaurant. It wasn't overtly intimate, but Stiles couldn't help but notice the placement of Derek's hand on the small of her back. She was turned sideways into Derek, so he could clearly see the smooth expanse of skin visible where the back of her dress should have been, if she were wearing an actual dress instead of only half of one. She was very attractive with her dark hair and broad smile, looking up into Derek's eyes that were looking right back into hers with that stupid grin mirroring hers. They were so freakin caught up in each other that neither of them seemed aware of the photographer.  Yeah...Stiles remembered what it was like to be lost in that lethal Hale smiling-gaze combo. He fought the urge to smash his mug on the countertop all over their stupid happy faces.  

That, you see was the problem. He wasn't jealous that Derek was dating or that from the looks of it had moved on. Why would he be? _He_ was the one who ended their marriage. _He_ was the one who said that it wasn't working, that it hadn't been working for a while and it was better if they went their separate ways. Only with kids involved, it could never truly be separate could it? So this change of status stayed like an open wound between them, but at least, Stiles told himself, at least we stemmed the bleeding. And that was a good thing. So he wasn't jealous. Derek had every right to go out and find himself some happy. What Stiles was feeling was anger...and failure...and humiliation that he ever believed that he would be the one...could be the one... who could make Derek Hale happy.

 

** Then: **

 

"Dude! You have got to find some happy!"

Stiles shook his head at his best friend Scott who was visiting him for the week. They'd been best bros since the fourth grade, spending every available moment together. That hadn't changed with Scott attending the Vet Med program at UC Davis which was approximately a 75 minute drive from where Stiles was at Boalt Hall in Berkeley attending law school. The Criminal Justice program there was just the type of research environment that Stiles thrived on.

They were currently at a frat party where the booze flowed freely and the girls were actually not ignoring them but Scott was too busy moping over a fight with Kira and his sulk was bringing Stiles down. He scanned the room looking for what liked to call 'potential'. Potential usually meant 'admire-from-afar-cuz-I-got-no-hope-in-hell-with-you-so-I'mma-just-appreciate-the-view- thank-you-very-much!"

"I just don't understand why she feels so insecure every time she hears Allison's name," he whined to Stiles. "Allison will always be part of my romantic history but Kee has to know she's like my romantic present and future."

"Dude!" Stiles stretched out the word and turned his head towards Scott but his eyes remained fixed on a spot close to the door. "I think I just found my romantic present and future."

Scott looked over to who had entranced his friend and startled.

"Stiles." His voice was no more than an urgent whisper. "We know him."

"Uh uh" Stiles naysayed. "Him I'd remember. Him I'd remember in vivid and possibly imaginative detail especially on those lonely nights in my room when I'm feeling.."

"I get it! I get it!" Scott interrupted. "But believe me when I say we know him. Well at least of him. That's Derek Hale."

That got Stiles attention. "Derek _HALE_? As in the Hale Fire Tragedy?"

"Yup." replied Scott. "Remember he was like 15 or 16 dating some old chick and when his parents found  out and forbade him from seeing her, she went all crazy and burnt the house down with almost everyone in it? I think it's just him and his sisters and Uncle left."

Stiles felt oddly deflated. It wasn't that he thought he had a chance with Derek Hale who had grown up to be one hot, finely sculpted specimen of male perfection but knowing Derek's past made him feel just a little bit guilty for ogling. He looked back at where Derek was standing but the space was now occupied by a couple who looked like they were trying to eat each other tongue first.

He turned back to Scotty but he was pulling out his phone for a text.

"Stiles, is it okay if I head back to your room? Kira wants to video chat for a bit."

Well the night had taken a turn for the worst anyway so Stiles said, "Yeah sure man. I'll come with."

Scott hesitated but then turned on the puppy dog eyes that he'd been using to get his way even before he was old enough to know what he was doing.

"Actually bro, do you mind giving us a little time? Couple hours max. You should just stay here and enjoy the party."

"What?" Stiles questioned before he clued in. "Aw gross man! You'd better not get any spunk on my sheets! I am not sleeping in your squirt."

He handed over his keys to Scott. "You're lucky my roommate quit college last week. I'll text ya before I leave to head back.....or I may just get blindingly drunk and pass out in a corner here. In which case I'll text you in the morning to come get me."

They hugged each other briefly doing the "bro pat" thing on each other's back. Then Scot was gone.

Stiles stood there for a while  just scoping out the scene before deciding to walk through the house. Suddenly the music was too loud, the place was too crowded and he couldn't breathe. As he passed through the kitchen, he snagged a half done bottle of vodka and made his way out back. He walked a little away from the house, found a quiet spot and taking a swig of the alcohol, he sat down, his back against a tree. He stayed like that, motionless for the most part, except for when he took the occasional gulp from the bottle. Eventually he closed his eyes which is why he heard the footsteps rather than saw the approach.

"Hey," said the visitor, "are you okay?"

Stiles opened his eyes slowly, a pair of jean clad legs in front of him over what he supposed could be nice knees. But they were covered so he couldn't tell. He was contemplating on how to find out if the knees were worth looking at when the visitor must have gotten impatient and stooped down on his haunches so he could be at eye level with Stiles.

It was Derek Hale and Stiles forgot to breathe.

And then of course it all came rushing back in panicked shallow breaths that had him turning sideways and grappling with the ground trying to find an anchor. Panic attacks were not new to Stiles but one being triggered by simply looking at Derek? WTF?

Derek responded quickly, grabbing Stiles and pulling him against his chest.  He pressed a hand against Stiles's sternum.

"Breathe buddy. Breathe." Hale's voice was calm and soothing and like a life saver tossed at Stiles. "Feel the rise and fall of my chest. Can you copy it? Breathe with me."

Stiles did and his breathing returned to normal but Derek didn't let him go immediately. He continue to hold Stiles, Stiles's back to Derek's chest and Derek's arms wrapped around Stiles.

Eventually Derek's arms fell away.

"Now when we tell people how we met," Derek said softly, "we can say in all honesty that you looked at me and I took your breath away."

It took Stiles a second before he realized that Derek had made a joke but then he giggled. And snorted and then giggled some more. Derek grinned in return and that in itself could take Stiles breath away. So he snorted and stopped horrified with himself. He looked at Derek who glared at him for a second before bursting out in laughter which of course just started up Stiles all over again.

When they finally ran out of steam and just sat there looking at each other, breathing heavily, Derek asked,

"So why are you drinking out here alone? I saw your boyfriend leave earlier. You guys okay?"

"Boyfrien...Oh you mean Scott? Nah man, he's my bestie. We've been best bros from in the sandbox together. I'm here because I've been sexiled man. From my own room. Can you believe that? It sucks to be single. I don't even want to think about what he's getting up to cuz I'll never be able to sleep there again."

Stiles sighed and lay back flat on the grass. "I just need to kill a few hours...or the entire night. Sexiled man....from my room....oh the unfairness of it all."

Derek pulled his knees up to his chest and locked his arms around them. Resting his chin on said knees, he tapped his feet a few times as if he was trying to make up his mind about something. There was a big sigh as he obviously made his decision and then he looked over at Stiles.

"My name is Derek Hale. I'm a post grad  completing a doctorate in Landscape Architecture and Environmental Planning."

Stiles grinned at how formal he sounded. "Stiles Stilinski, first year law."

Derek's smile was truly a thing of beauty.

"Well Stiles Stilinski, if you don't mind some company while you engage in the wholesale slaughter of units of time, I know a great all night diner where they serve pancakes 24 hours a day."

Stiles sat up feeling suddenly sober and a heckuva lot hopeful.

"I could eat pancakes." He responded. "I could eat pancakes 24 hours a day, any day."

Derek traced some swirly patterns on the ground with his finger, looking just a little bashful. "And maybe...maybe if you still need a place to crash...I've got a couch...some extra pillows and a blanket."

Dusting his pants off as he got up, Stiles turned and grabbed Derek's hand to pull him to his feet.

"Feeeeeeeeeed meeeeeeee Derrrreeeeek!" he pleaded like the drama queen he was before softly adding, "We can negotiate the sleeping arrangements after."

He turned to leave, still holding Derek's hand firmly in his, when suddenly Derek yanked him back spinning him around so he was facing Derek.

"Wha.." Stiles began but couldn't finish because Derek's mouth was on his. Derek kissed like an expert, lips warm and moist but not wet, mouth parted but not gaping like a fish and applying gentle suction but definitely not auditioning for a job with Hoover. Damn. Stiles could happily kiss Derek for the rest of his existence. _Screw pancakes_ , thought Stiles. _This...this is way tastier._

Derek pulled away gently and nuzzled Stiles's nose before pressing another quick peck on his mouth. "I've been wanting to do that since I walked in the door and saw you with your friend."

Stiles cupped the back of his neck and pulled him back for another kiss. "How about we get them fine pancakes to go?"

Derek smiled against his lip. "Yeah...we can do that."

 

 


	2. Communication, disinformation..

** NOW: **

 

Sitting behind his desk, fingers wrapped around his coffee cup, Derek looked down at the photo on his desk and smiled. It surprised him how happy he looked. How long had it been since he was truly happy? Sometimes, he wondered if he'd ever been truly happy in his life but anyone looking at the photograph however, would answer "yes, he'd definitely been happy when that shot was taken". As miserable a bastard as he usually was, a small part of him whispered that happiness wasn't beyond him; that he'd had it once and could have it again.

He looked up as Erica came into the office. He'd hired her as his assistant the minute she'd finished college and had never regretted it. As abrasive and as brash she could be, she was brutally efficient and loyal to a fault. He'd met her, and her now husband Vernon Boyd, when he'd done a TA stint at Berkeley. Despite the odds, the three had become fast friends. When they'd met his foster brother Isaac (who was their age) on one of his visits, they'd bonded and had never left Derek's circle since.

"Hey Der, I confirmed that the site visit with the engineering firm has been moved to next Monday like you asked me to."

Derek worked as the Director of an environmental research unit for the federal government. Their job was to assess industry impact on the environment. He'd worked hard to get this position and he'd paid some heavy dues but there were moments when he wondered if it had cost him too much.

She sat with her hip on the edge of his desk , her scarlet painted mouth in a broad grin and her riotous mane of blonde curls cascading over one shoulder.  Erica was a beautiful powerhouse of a woman, Derek thought, not for the first time. He was lucky to have her running his work life. He wondered if his personal life would have fared better if she'd been in charge of that as well.

"So what have we got on the go today?" He asked. "I'm picking up the boys at home tonight to take them to a laser tag party so I have to be out of here by 4 o'clock if I  want to get them there in time."

Erica gave him this little wry smile that was part concern and part pity. 

"What?"

She raised an eyebrow in response. He tried again.

"Seriously Erica, what is that look about?"

She sighed sadly, "It's been two years Derek. You haven't lived there in almost two years and yet you still refer to it as 'home'."

Oh. He hadn't realized he'd done that. Or that he still did.

"You need to let go Der. I thought you were finally moving on..."

His eyes darted to the photo he'd been looking at earlier. Everyone kept telling him to move on. Wasn't that what his date with Jennifer had been about? Moving on? Accepting that what he had with Stiles, a home, a life, a family, was a thing of the past? That he needed to forge new connections, get laid (God how he needed to get laid - it had been years. He and Stiles hadn't been intimate for at least six months before Stiles kicked him out) and maybe build a new dream of the future? He looked so happy in the picture. He was sitting next to Stiles, the boys still toddlers crawling around on their laps and he and Stiles were just looking at each other, stars sparkling in their eyes, wearing these shit-eating grins. For just that instant, as the camera shutter clicked, capturing a time span shorter than a blink, his world had been perfect. Abso-fucking-lutely perfect. How the hell does someone move on from perfect?

Erica caught sight of the framed picture and reached for it. "Is that..?"

He snatched it away before she could pluck it off the desk.  She side-eyed him hard, her head tilted to one side. Just when he thought that she was going to make it an issue however, she got up instead, smoothed down her barely there skirt and walked over to the door. She turned back to him as she paused in the doorway.

"About that....the Sheriff called. You can collect the kids from him at the station. Apparently Stiles has an early date tonight. A guy named Jake or something like that. I'll email you the updated agenda for today."

Then she was gone and Derek actually had a physical ache in his chest. He glanced at the picture for a second and then with firm resolve, opened the bottom drawer of his desk, gently placed it face down and shut the drawer tight.

 

** THEN **

“I don’t see the attraction.”

Derek snorted. Of Isaac wouldn’t see it. He and Stiles had taken what seemed to be an almost immediate dislike to each other. In fairness to Stiles, it was Isaac, his younger foster brother, who started it with a deliberate snub of Stiles when Derek had introduced them about a month after he and Stiles had started dating. 

Derek had been walking across campus with his brother to meet up with Erica and Boyd, when Stiles had noticed them and bounded over to say hello. Upon being introduced to Isaac, Stiles had stuck his hand out in greeting but Isaac had just looked at Stiles with a look that clearly said he could not believe his brother was dating this gangly looking spastic kid who was clearly so far beneath Derek’s league that Derek must have been playing a joke on him. Derek had had to clear his throat to prompt Isaac into action. Isaac took Stiles’s hand, gave it two quick pumps before dropping it and sticking his hands into his pocket as if he were afraid he’d be required to touch Stiles again.  Then he pointed out Erica and Boyd in the distance, said goodbye to no one in particular and walked off leaving a puzzled Derek and an irritated Stiles in his wake.

In Isaac’s defense however, Derek didn’t think anyone could live up to Isaac’s incredibly high standards when it came to his foster siblings. He had a serious case of hero worship for the Hales and for Derek in particular. Derek had been the one you see who befriended him when he had no friends, despite being older. Derek had been the one who realized that Isaac’s father was abusive and had convinced Peter to get involved. When the police, Peter and Derek had turned up at the Laahey household after a frantic call from Isaac, there had been no sign of Isaac but Derek had been the one to convince the police to look around. The police found trace elements of blood and deepened the search and Isaac was found, bloodied and bruised, locked in an old freezer in the basement. After the hospital stay and the trial that put Mr. Laahey away for 20 years, Derek had been the one who convinced Peter that Isaac was too fragile to survive the public foster system and that they should assume responsibility for the 16 year old. So Isaac loved his new sisters and they doted on him but his relationship with Derek was a thing apart.

Standing in the kitchen, stirring the pasta sauce he had on simmer, Derek just raised an eyebrow at Isaac who was standing next to him, his back to the cupboards, his body leaning against them and his hands just holding the countertop. Isaac was used to having conversations with Derek’s eyebrows so he just looked back at Derek pleadingly.

“He’s a child Derek.” Isaac clarified. “You’re crossing some lines here bro. I’m just trying to protect you. I don’t want you going to jail because you’re dating a child.”

Derek snorted again, before turning off the stove and turning back to survey the tiny table that served to separate the kitchen/eating area from the living room area in his open concept apartment.

“He’s the same age you are,” he countered, pulling out some placemats from a drawer.

“See!” Isaac bolted upright, wagging a finger at Derek. “That’s my point exactly.”

He walked over to the living room area and sat on the back of the couch, facing Derek. “You’re always saying I’m a child. So you agree that you’re dating a child!”

Derek shook his head as he pulled the placemats off the naked table. It didn’t look quite right. Usually when he and Stiles ate at the apartment, they eat on the couch in front of the TV but tonight involved 'sauce and Stiles' so Derek was keeping his furniture safe by doing this as a table-sit-down meal.

“What I’m always saying is that you’re ‘worse than a little child’.” Derek retorted. “See the difference?”

“What I see is that you’re kicking me out so you can do nasty nasty things with a child.”

Isaac pouted beautifully (proving Derek’s comment) as he swung his over long legs across the back of the couch and slid down into a slumped position. Derek always thought the younger man was gifted when it came to sulking with his whole body. But then he got caught up in the memories triggered by his brother’s words. He certainly did enjoy being with Stiles who was definitely not a child. He wasn’t even gangly. Stiles overly casual fashion sense managed to conceal a lean but definitely sculpted musculature and a body so desirable that it affected Derek like none other. So yeah, maybe it was his face and those eyes and the way his mouth fought with straws that caught Derek’s attention initially but that body and the things he could do with it (the things he  _did_  do with it)…well damn; nasty was a beautiful thing with Stiles Stilinski.

“OHMYGAWD!”

Isaac’s cry startled Derek out of his musings. His brother was still sitting on the couch but he’d twisted his torso around so he could look back at Derek.

“You’re thinking about doing nasty things to him right now, aren’t you?” Isaac bemoaned. “Bro, that’s so not cool. I’m right here! And I’m impressionable.”

Derek smiled sheepishly as his eyebrows climbed higher on his forehead and his cheeks tinged pink.

“I’m so outta here,” Isaac continued as he got up and walked over to hug his brother. “Erica knows I’m spending the night there so I’ll touch base with you in the morning before I head home.”

  
“You don’t have to leave right away, you know,’ Derek offered.

“I know,” replied the younger man, “but if I do, I can miss seeing the dork all together.” 

Both men grinned at each other and the Isaac was gone.

Alone in the apartment, Derek turned his attention back to setting the table for dinner. He wasn’t sure why he felt like fancying up the damn thing but if they were gonna do a table dinner then at least they should do it right. In a flash of brilliance, he remembered the tablecloth he had bought for a picnic once and never used since. He retrieved it from the back of the closet and spread it out on the table before putting the place mats back on and then setting out the plates, glasses and cutlery. When he stepped back, he was quite pleased with the results but…… it still felt like something was missing. He thought back to restaurants and he realised what he needed to finish the look off was a small vase of flowers like they often had in restaurants. He looked around the apartment. Yup no flowers. Well he sure as hell wasn’t going to run out and buy any just to eat at the table. Stiles would laugh his head off at that. They’d simply have to do without.

Then he remembered that under his bed in a box, was the candle set he’d bought as a present for Erica before he realised she’d prefer a blowtorch over candles any day. It was one of those three different sized bowl things that you fill with water so the tea lights floated in them. That could totally work as a centrepiece. He pulled it out, set it up and then stood back and admired the ambience. It looked pretty good. On a whim, he dimmed the lights a little and then he had to revise his opinion – it looked pretty _damn_ good. He smirked and was about to flick the lights back up when the there was a knock at the door. Thinking it was Isaac forgetting something, he walked over to unlock it as it was still too early for Stiles.

It was Stiles however. He planted a quick kiss on Derek’s lips before walking into the apartment, looking at Derek so he missed the whole set up.

“Hey, was that Isaac I saw in the Commons?” He rambled as he walked in. “I swear I recognized that scarf. What the hell is his deal with scarves anyway? Does he know the temperature outside right now? Why the hell is it so dark in here Der…?

Stiles just stopped. He stopped walking. He stopped talking. Taking in the table setting with the table cloth and the laid out places, the lit candles, the dim lights, Stiles was just speechless for a second. Derek laughed softly at his boyfriend. “If I’d known it was this easy to shut you up…”, he left the statement hanging with a grin.

Stiles spun around suddenly and launched himself at Derek. With an ‘oomph,’ Derek found himself with a mouthful of Stiles. Stiles who was kissing him like he was the best thing Stiles had ever tasted and whose hands were travelling all over Derek, touching him, caressing him, trying to shed him of his clothes.

Stiles cupped Derek's face in his hands, pressing his mouth into Derek who whimpered softly. He was always happily surprised how talented Stiles's mouth was.  His lips were gentle, but firm and insistent at the same time and he had a way of teasing Derek's mouth that was very playful and erotic. Stiles  deepened the kiss, and then pulled back just enough so that their lips were barely touching prompting Derek to lean forward a little to continue it. Damn, Derek thought. His boyfriend was such a sexy kisser, they could probably come from just the kissing. He knew he'd been close a few times.  
  
Just as Derek was about to point out that dinner would get cold if they didn't eat it soon, Stiles drew away laughing. Eyes sparkling, he grabbed Derek's hand and dragged him into the bedroom.  He shut the door behind them and then in stark contrast to the energy he was displaying earlier, he got very still, as if he was working up courage or feeling overly emotional.  
  
He suddenly became very careful and very gentle. He lifted one of Derek's hand, and kissed the palm. Derek smiled, dinner forgotten, and kissed him, pushing his lips apart and licking into his mouth. Stiles sucked on his tongue gently. It was an intoxicating dizzying feeling. They were pressed up against each other and Derek could feel Stiles's cock long and hard against his hip.  He knew that Stiles could feel his own arousal pressing back. Stiles's breath was slightly ragged and it seemed as if he was about to whisper something  into Derek's ear.  

Whatever it was, was lost as Stiles seemed to change his mind and instead pushed Derek backwards and down on the bed.  Stiles joined him and they lay facing each other, bodies close and foreheads touching. They were still fully clothed despite Stiles's earlier efforts and yet this seemed more intimate than any of the things they'd done naked and sweaty. Derek looked into Stiles amber eyes, the shade of his favourite whiskey and got lost in them.  It was a moment before he realized that Stiles undone the tops of both their pants.

He kissed Derek softly on the lips whilst reaching into the waistband of his pants and pulling out his cock. Derek reached into his own pants and reciprocated, never once breaking his kiss with Stiles. He started to stroke his length but Stiles swatted his hand away, lining up their cocks together and wrapping his hand around them both to stroke them in synchronicity.  Fuck, that was heaven. Derek pushed his freed hand into Stiles's hair, gripping tight . His cock was throbbing, forcing him to thrust against his boyfriend's cock and body. Stiles had to use both hands to hold them together, so Derek held them close and worked his hips in rhythm with Stiles. He broke the kiss and threw his head back moaning and Stiles pressed his head into the exposed curve of Derek's neck. So fucking intimate, Derek's whole body was buzzing, strung taught.  Derek could feel himself getting close.  
  
"I'm gonna come." Dereh whispered, panting hard.  
  
"Me too." He whispered, his eyes shimmering with arousal.  
  
Stiles moaned softly, and his hand started moving faster and faster before slowing down to tantalize Derek before speeding up again, both men gasping for air.  
  
He closed his eyes, but Derek kept his open. They came at almost exactly the same time.  
  
\---  
  
They cleaned up wordlessly, using their t-shirts since those collected the worst of it. Some ended up on their stomachs but luckily their pants were okay. After Derek had pulled out two of his shirts for them and they put them on, they ended up looking at each other and burst out laughing. Derek turned to head back out to the kitchen to begin plating the dinner but Stiles pulled him back for a soft kiss.

"Thank you Derek," he said shyly. "My friends were so sure that you'd never remember something as stupid as our six month-i-versary  and I sure wasn't going to say anything, but this? That you did all this...that you remember these moments and you want to celebrate meeting me, celebrate being with a goofball like me....well I cant wait to shut them all up tomorrow."

He dropped a quick peck on Derek's lips. "Okay, enough sap. Let's go eat whatever deliciousness you've cooked up."

Stiles left the bedroom but it took Derek a moment to find his legs. He felt like an ass. An incredibly lucky ass because it worked out that Stiles was happy but he couldn't help but be aware that Stiles was significantly more romantic about their relationship than he was. Stiles looked at him with love in his eyes. Love! After only a few months. What the hell was he going to do now? He really really liked Stiles. He cared for him more than he had anyone in years. But after what love cost him the last time? Derek didn't know if he could ever feel that again.

He followed Stiles out to the kitchen but suddenly he wasn't quite that hungry anymore.


	3. All you never say is that you love me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, thank you for all the support and encouragement. I'm a day late so I apologise. I've been ill and it's messing with my head. The smut continues so I hope you're okay with that and I hope you're forgiving cuz I'm not really any good at it. The chapter title is from All You Never Say by Birdy. Please leave a comment if you can. It helps to know what you think of the story and how it's unfolding. Oh, unbeta'd so errors are all mine. Thanks again.

 

** NOW: **

 

Stiles used his lunch hour to visit Scott at the Beacon Hills Animal Clinic. He waved to the young assistant at the front desk as he made his way to the back where the office was located. Scott grinned when he looked up and saw Stiles walking in with takeout bags from their favourite diner.

"Bro!" he greeted Stiles. "You are awesome. I was just about to send Patty out to grab me a bite. What did you bring me?"

Stiles emptied the contents of the bag onto Scott's desk as Scott cleared an area off for him.

"Only the best burgers in town," he smirked in reply, "and I got us Shirley's extra thick milkshake."

Scott's smile fell off his face as he grabbed his burger and sat back in his chair. He eyed the milkshakes with a concerned look.

"Uh-oh." He worried. "What is it now? What'd you do Stiles?"

“Me?” Stiles looked affronted. “I haven’t done anything. Why would you even?”

Scott lifted his milkshake and waved at his friend.  “Dude, the only time you ever pick these up is when you’re in trouble, trying to convince me to go along with some crazy scheme or one of us is truly and painfully depressed.”

He took a bite of his burger and continued to talk around the food in his mouth.

“Since I’ve long given up on your crazy schemes and neither of us is depressed, it has to be that you’re in trouble. Spill it Bro’.”

Stiles gave him a pained look. He put his burger down on the desk and reached into his back pocket. Unfolding the newspaper clipping he’d retrieved, he placed it on the desk and smoothed out the creases. Scott slid it closer with a single finger and frowned as he saw what it was.

“Crap. Depressed it is.” Scott pouted like he was the one hurt and Stiles couldn’t help the small smile. It was little things like this that reminded him of why Scott was his brother. God he loved him.

“Yup.” He popped his lips when he responded to Scott. 

They sat in silence for a while, eating their lunch, both lost in their thoughts. Scott was finished eating and in the process of crunching up the wrapper when he looked back at Stiles.

“It had to happen eventually.” He said quietly. “It’s been like two years man. I will admit though, I kinda always thought you guys would get back together.”

He’d never admit it out loud but there was this tiny quiet piece of Stiles, locked away tight within him that thought…wanted…hoped for the same thing. He and Derek saw each other all the time; Never for any prolonged periods really except for the boys’ birthday and for holidays, when it was simply easier to spend it together rather than dividing up the time with the kids.  But every time Derek came by the house to pick up or drop off the kids, it was on the tip of Stiles’s tongue to invite him to share coffee or a meal, or horrors of horrors, a talk. Only he never did. Whatever attempt at moving closer together Stiles may have thought was possible, got firmly lodged in his throat every time he saw his ex and he’d just be there in what may seem like stony silence.

There was another part of him, a noisy annoying voice, which taunted that it wasn’t just up to him. If Derek wanted to talk, he’d bring it up. If Derek wanted to spend time with him, the voice hinted, well then Derek could ask to do so. It was a two way street right? Yeah, Derek certainly had not been making any attempts to cross it.  That part of Stiles grudgingly acknowledged the countless efforts Derek had made in the immediate aftermath of Stiles kicking Derek out of his home and life but it also countered that Derek wasn’t trying to fix anything; he was just looking to return to the status quo and Stiles couldn’t go back to that. He just couldn’t.

“You know I love you right?” Scott’s voice broke Stiles out of his thoughts. “We’re brothers and I will stand behind you no matter what.”

Stiles nodded.

“I told you this before, but I never understood why you had to end it.  When you asked him to leave and he did, I thought you two would work it out but then there was an actual divorce – division of assets, custody hearing, the works. I still don’t get it.  And on days like today, where you’re pining for a man you said you didn’t want any more, I am not sure even you get it.”

They did have this conversation before; repeatedly after the break up. Back then Scott’s words had felt like blows of betrayal because if anyone knew Stiles, it was Scott. He should have understood Stiles’s feelings and actions. As a testament to their closeness, Scott had never voiced his feelings on the break up to anyone other than Stiles. Even to Kira, his wife, Scott had simply said, “Stiles isn’t doing this lightly. He’s doing what’s best for him and his family”.  In private though, Scott had pressed him for answers till it hurt. 

Now, the questions didn’t hurt anymore. They just made him wonder if he could have handled things differently. They made him question his determination in that he’d tried everything he possibly could. What they didn’t make him doubt was that his marriage, like an early onset dementia, was slowly making him insane.

“Scotty,” he began. “I know you think I ended things badly but I told you, my marriage was over long before I called it quits. The only thing I did was slap the ‘condemned’ sign on the front door.”

“You still want him; His dating wouldn’t be disheartening you like this, if you didn’t.”

Stiles jumped up and began to pace.

“Of course I still want him. FFS I still LOVE him.  The wanting and the loving was never our problem. It was the bloody ‘being’! We were so good together on a physical level but when it was over I was so frickin lonely Scott. I was in a relationship with the most amazing guy for almost a decade and I was always alone. “

He stopped pacing and ran an agitated hand through his hair.

“I pretended that everything was fine for so long Scott; for far too long.  I thought that getting married would solidify things, you know?  Then I thought that starting a family, having kids would bring us closer together.  We were perfect on paper. Everyone who saw us thought that we were perfect together. But why was I so lonely all the time? I just wanted someone who’d love me and stay with me…you know, just  _be_  with me, be a part of me and I’d be a part of them.”

Scott stood up as well but stayed where he was.

“He loved you Stiles. He probably still does inside. He probably would have stayed with you his whole life.”

“He loved the sex.” Stiles scoffed. “He loved the companionship because it didn’t require any effort and he loved having help in building his overly-planned-out future.  It could have been anybody. It just happened to be me.”

“I fitted into a designed space in Derek’s life when Derek should have been designing a space to fit me.” Stiles sighed as if the words were making him tired. “I never really felt that I mattered. Things were good if I didn’t look too closely, or ask too many questions. When I asked him to leave, there was a part of me that believed, really believed, that he would have fought me on it. That he would have moved heaven and earth to keep me because he loved me and his life would be empty without me.”

“What I got was ‘I’d rather not but if you’re determined, then okay.’  _He’d rather not_. What the hell was that Scott? My world was ending and he just sounded like it was nothing more than an inconvenience. He just left. He just left me. Oh, he was sure to insist on time with the kids but nothing about me.”

Tears were streaming freely down his cheeks by then. Scott walked around the desk and enveloped him in a comforting hug. Stiles let himself be comforted.

“I should have just married you.” Stiles joked but it sounded watery.

“Yeah, but then you’d have to get a boob job and learn martial arts so you could protect yourself from Kira.” Scott paused. “You know I love you right? And that there’d never be a world where we’re not…like conjoined twins…but without the genetic mutation thing…and the not being actual twins thing.”

Stiles stifled a chuckle in his shoulder and Scott smiled; then frowned at the nuzzling motions Stiles was making.

“Dude!” he said, “tell me you’re not wiping your tears and snot on my lab coat!  _Stiles_!”

 

** THEN: **

 

"Come back to bed."

He paused in the act of slipping his t-shirt over his head and looked over to where his boyfriend lay half asleep and fully naked on the bed. Stiles was tempted. He really was. Last night was probably one of the best nights of his life. He and Derek had met up for dinner at a restaurant which was unusual in itself for them (they preferred staying in) and then he spent the night in Derek's bed, in Derek's arms and at times in Derek. He smirked to himself remembering the way it felt, all that hard muscle and skin beneath him. It wasn't the first time he topped with Derek but there just something about the whole evening and night where everything just felt more intense, more meaningful.

"I mean it Stiles," came the growl from the bed. "I'm not done with you."

Stiles continued getting dressed, shimmying into his jeans. Suddenly a pair of arms circled him around the waist and he found himself falling onto the bed. Derek twisted so that Stiles landed on the mattress and Derek was on the ground at the edge of the bed. He gripped the tops of Stiles's jeans and boxers and yanked them across to his knees and before Stiles could utter a plea of "Dereeeeeeek" , his mouth was on Stiles sucking him in whole. He swirled his tongue around a hardening Stiles and Stiles could help the moans that action elicited.

"Der, I gotta get to the library. I need to finish the research for my...OMIGOD DEREK!"

Derek had pulled his lips from Stiles's head, licking along his shaft before gently sucking his scrotum into his mouth. He teased Stiles there, knowing that any attention to his balls drove Stiles mad.

Then, using one hand to keep the sensation going,  massaging Stiles's sac,  Derek again wrapped his lips around the shaft of his long hard cock, taking in as much as he could into his mouth. He bobbed his head slowly up and down, savoring Stiles's salty taste and his every moan. It seemed as if Derek fed off of Stiles's pleasure, making sure to repeat every little thing that caused Stiles to moan louder, squirm against the bed, or grip his hair tighter in pleasure.  
  
Stiles moaned loudly again, panting. "Fuck... Deeereeek, I'm gonna... Fuck, I'm gonna cum..." he exclaimed as his hips bucked, releasing streams of hot, sweet cum into Derek's welcoming mouth.    
  
Stiles panted as Derek kissed up his chest. His lips pressed against Stiles's greedily, his own hunger having grown from his pleasure derived from Stiles's orgasm. He pulled away gently from the kiss, smiling down at Stiles.  
  
"Is it my turn?" he laughed as Stiles nodded and stretched his neck to plant a kiss on Derek's jaw.

Derek reached sideways to the night stand to find a condom and the bottle of lube he kept there. Derek flipped Stiles over onto his stomach as he slid on the condom.  Stiles got onto his knees and elbows, opening himself up to Derek, who by then was warming some of the lube up in his hands.  
  
Derek slid two fingers into Stiles who was more than ready to accept him, still a little loose from the night's activities. Stiles pushed against the fingers that were preparing him, craving what would come. "Patience, Stiles." Derek said quietly before planting a kiss on Stiles spine. He slid his hand up and down his own shaft a few times with his lubricated slowly sliding  into Stiles.  Over the months they'd been together, Stiles had grown accustom to accepting Derek's long, thick penis, and found himself craving it at all times. Once Derek had pushed all the way in, he kissed the back of Stiles neck sucking on the nape and leaving a bruise to match all the others he put there. Drowning in sensory overload, Stiles began to squirm underneath his boyfriend's body.  
  
"Are you ready, babe?" Derek asked, knowing full well what the answer was going to be.  
  
Stiles nodded vigorously, "Please..."  
  
That was all the motivation Derek needed. He began slowly pushing in and out of Stiles, increasing speed and intensity at the commands of the young catcher. The slapping of skin on skin and their mixing moans filled the room. Derek sped up, fucking into Stiles as hard and fast as he could without fearing he'd hurt him. Then with a final forceful thrust released his load moaning with complete satisfaction. This pushed Stiles to a surprise second climax, cumming all over the sheets underneath them.  
  
They collapsed in a heap, Derek sprawled on top of Stiles as they both caught their breath. Derek eventually rolled off to get a washcloth to clean them up. He pulled Stiles to a standing position and after taking care of him, Derek pulled Stiles's boxers and pants back up, tucked him in and then buttoned up the fly.

Looking into Derek's eyes, Stiles kissed him slowly and meaningfully. "I love you, Derek."  
  
Derek grinned and planted a quick kiss on Stiles's lips. "You'll love me more when you see what I've got planned for you once you come back from the library." He picked up Stiles hoodie and passed it to him.

"Hurry back you dork. I'll be here waiting." He leaned in for a passionate kiss that had Stiles smiling all the way to the library. In fact Stiles was still smiling hours later sitting on the floor between the stacks his books spread out around him.

He was feeling pretty good and his brain was just over performing. He'd begun to pack up, his body humming in anticipation of whatever tricks Derek had up his sleeves awaiting his return when he heard the two girls in the aisle next to his. They didn't see him since he was on the floor and it was the name that really caught his attention.

"Hale is never going to give you the time of day." Girl 1 said. "Everybody knows he's gay. He's got a boyfriend. I think they've been together like almost a year."

"It's not a year," replied Girl 2. "It's only been like 10 months or something. They haven't had an anniversary yet or anything so I'm taking that to mean they're still testing out the relationship thing. It's not like they're married or engaged or anything."

Girl 1 countered with "You're forgetting the gay thing. We've showered at the gym together so I can say with confidence that you are missing some key equipment."

Girl 2 laughed and it wasn't pretty.

"Nope. He's bi. We had coffee last week and it came up. He's had girlfriends before. I think I can convince him to have one again - namely me."

Stiles was just about to get up to confront them with the smack down they were asking for when Girl 2 said something that made him freeze.

"It's not like he loves him or anything. It's just college sex. As a TA, his schedule doesn't really give much time to date or socialize. It's just sex and hanging out on tap. He'd be a fool to not take advantage of that. I can give him the same thing but classier. You know?"

Their voices faded out but Stiles stayed rooted to his spot. "It was love" he told himself. That bitch didn't know anything about them. Shaking himself free out of his stupor, he began to shove  his loose leaf pages into his laptop case. "Wait till Derek hears about this chick" he thought. "Derek needs to knock her down a few pegs."

It was only as he was stepping out into the sunshine that it hit him. Derek had never said "I love you Stiles". Derek had never said "I love you too" in all of the times Stiles had he loved him. It was always Stiles. Pulling out his phone he sent Derek a quick text and then turned to walk in the direction opposite to Derek's apartment.


	4. Hold Me Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to thank you guys for reading and commenting and for leaving kudos. I've been under the weather the past couple weeks so I've been behind schedule but thank you for your patience and generosity with this little story. 
> 
> The reference to Godot is from the play by Samuel Beckett.

Now:

 Derek knocked on the door to the Sheriff's office, feeling just a little bit uncomfortable. It had been months since he'd last seen the Sheriff and truth be told, Derek missed having a father figure in his life. He smiled, remembering how nervous he'd been the first time he'd met Stiles father. Those early monthly family dinners had been hilariously uncomfortable because the Sheriff had always worn his uniform to the dinners and though he didn't wear his gun belt to the table, it was always left lying where Derek could see it clearly.  Eventually though, he and the Sheriff bonded in a way that made him miss his own father all the more while at the same time filled the  father-son interaction void inside him. They had become close and would often do things together without Stiles.

 All that changed though with the divorce. The Sheriff understandably stood by his son - and Derek wouldn't have it any other way - but it made things awkward between them. When they did run into each other at pick up/drop off meetings or at family get-togethers, things were always polite but strained. Derek missed the easy affection they used to share.

 He entered the office upon the Sheriff's "Come on in!"

Sheriff Stilinski rose as Derek entered and walked around his desk to do their usual hand-shake-slash-half-hug thing and then walked back around it to sit down.

"I hope you don't mind waiting a couple minutes Derek," he said. "Deputy Parrish was heading out after his shift when he volunteered to take the boys to the arts and craft store to pick up some colouring books and paints. They should be back any second now." 

Sitting down, not across from the Sheriff, but on a sofa against a wall to the side, Derek let himself relax a little in the familiar comfort of the other man’s presence.

“It’s not a problem,” he responded. “We still have a bit of time before we actually need to be on our way. It’s really nice of Deputy Parrish to do this though. I appreciate any effort people make to be nice to my kids. I’ll have to thank him when they get back.”

He was smiling as he spoke but he couldn’t help but notice however that his former father-in-law looked a little uncomfortable.  He lifted his eyebrows questioningly out of habit. Stiles and his dad always responded to what they called the silent language of his eyebrows. The Sheriff squirmed just a little and it was enough to let him know something was up. He didn’t ask – not out loud anyway. Instead he tilted his head to the side just a bit as he continued to stare at the man.

“Okay,” the Sheriff sighed. “In the interest of full disclosure, you should know that Kyle….Deputy Parrish has declared his intentions to me. He means to woo Stiles.”

The older man rolled his eyes at the word ‘woo’ and then scrubbed a hand over his face as if to rub away the weariness so obviously felt.

“Woo?” asked Derek.

“Yeah, replied the Sheriff. “I don’t think he’s approached Stiles yet. I think he wanted to clear it with me first but I just told him that my son is an adult and can make his own choices. I mentioned it to Stiles though. Just thought to give him a heads up. Do you want a coffee or anything Derek?”

Derek had been staring hard at the stapler on the desk in front of him but snapped his head up at the sudden change in topic. His response was automatic as he flashed back to all the times Stiles had mentioned how pretty he thought the young Deputy's eyes were.

"No thanks Dad, I'll just wait for..." his words trailed off as he caught himself.  He shot a panicked glance at the Sheriff who returned his look with a gentle gaze of his own.

"You'll always be a son to me Derek." His words were soft and kind. "I don't know the details of why things played out the way they did, but I do know it wasn't because of a lack of love or loyalty."

Derek swallowed the emotion clogging up his throat and nodded with a little smile. There was a lot he wanted to say to the older man but as usual his voice failed him. He nodded again and he looked away. His former father-in-law however was a gift; he really was.

“You know Derek,” he began, “It’s been too long since we’ve done anything together. I’ve missed it.”

Derek looked up at the Sheriff who could plainly read the longing in Derek’s eye.

“Maybe you could swing by and watch the baseball game with me next Thursday night?” he invited. “Stiles has the boys then right? We could pop open some beers and kick back like we used to.”

His smile was genuine and whole as he responded, “Thanks Dad.”

The Sheriff smiled but then was distracted by a small noisy ruckus outside his office.

“Looks like the boys are back.” He said. “You know Derek, I gotta tell you…I may be just a little biased but despite everything, you and my son are raising two fine young men there.  Kids are always a handful and a challenge – God knows raising Stiles was a trial in itself, but twins…well I worried. I see now that your little clones are well adjusted. I swear though, that Tyler, he’s like Stiles all over again. Thank goodness he has Dylan to ground him.”

That caused Derek to laugh out loud.  It was true. Dylan and Tyler came screaming into the world together but as fraternal twins they looked nothing alike and acted nothing alike. Dylan who was older by a few minutes was physically a mini-version of Stiles with his pale skin, dotted with moles and his limbs all lean and gangly. His personality however was all Derek, exuding this calming Zen, a love for sports and his ability to convey disapproval with Tyler’s behaviour without saying a single word.

Tyler on the other hand was the spitting image of Derek, broad where Dylan was lean, sporting some serious Hale eyebrow game (as Stiles liked to refer to it) and darker in skin tones as compared to Dylan. Personality-wise though, he was all Stiles – frenetic energy, off the charts IQ (including or perhaps due to an eidetic memory) and a penchant for getting in trouble that you’d not think possible, unless of course you knew Stiles.  Their kids were little clones but with the personalities switched.  There was no denying that they belonged to him and Stiles though, and that thought always made him grin.

The door opened and Tyler pretty much fell into the room, eyes on his grandfather, not noticing his dad off to the side.

“Grampa! Kyle got me a Batman colouring book! It’s Awesome!”

At five years old, Tyler lived his life in exclamation marks. Dylan followed him in in his usual quiet manner.

“I think you’re supposed to call him Sheriff when he’s wearing the uniform.” Dylan announced, “Or when we’re at the police station.”

"Doesn't matter where he is or what he's wearing, he's my Grampa so you don't know everything Dylan Stilinski-Hale!" was Ty's response.

Derek had to chuckle at Ty’s tone and both boys swung their heads around to him at the same time.

“Daddy!” They ran to him, climbing up on the sofa to wrap their arms around his neck. Derek squeezed tight.  There was nothing in the world as wonderful or magical as the unconditional love of a child and he was blessed, truly blessed to have that in duplicate. Planting kisses on the tops of both their heads, he gently disengaged himself from their arms to stand and extend a hand to the deputy who had brought them in.

“You must be Deputy Parrish,” he said eyeing the handsome young man who was interested in Stiles. “Thank you for entertaining these two. They are a handful, I know.”

“Hey!” Two little voices cried out in indignation.

 Deputy Parrish smiled hesitantly as he shook Derek’s hands. “It was no trouble. I enjoyed spending time with the boys. Perhaps I’ll have the opportunity to do it again in the future.”

 _‘Not if I can help it’_ Derek thought but didn’t say. He simply flashed a predatory grin and held Parrish’s hand tight as he leaned in closer to the younger man and positioned his body between the deputy and his kids.

“Perhaps.” His words were soft but the tone was hard. “I’m very protective about what’s mine.”

Parrish eyed Derek for a moment, glancing down at the grip his hand was still in, before replying “Are we still talking about the kids?”

The Sheriff got up and cleared his throat. Derek, still smiling, released his hold on Parrish’s palm and patted the deputy on his shoulder. He shrugged, a motion meant to convey “interpret it however you like.”

“You have a good evening Deputy.”  He responded dismissively before turning back to his kids. 

After the Sheriff had helped him buckle the boys into their car seats,  he tugged Derek a couple steps away from the car.

“What was that with Kyle?” he asked. “You’re acting like you’re still married to my son. Do I need to be worried Derek?”

Derek sighed and considered his words. “I still feel married to him Dad. Sometimes I forget myself…I forget that he kicked me out, that he doesn’t want this.”

Sheriff Stilinski ran a hand through his hair as he looked skyward, making it look as if his hand was pushing his head back and up.

“Derek, you and Stiles have almost a decade of history together and he’s pushed you away more times than I can remember.  Yet you never let him get away with it before the divorce. Maybe you need to remember why.”

“Dad, I can’t...I can’t go through,” he began to respond when the Sheriff cut him off.

“I’m not asking you to do anything Son. Just remember why you held on for as long as you did.”

The Sheriff turned and walked back into the station, leaving Derek to watch his retreating figure.

 

**THEN: **

 

Derek sat on the floor in the corridor of Stiles's dorm, his back propped up against the wall next to the door, his legs extended across the hallway.  He'd been there for about an hour and was garnering some strange looks from the residents but he wasn't about to move.  It had been three weeks since he last saw Stiles....no, that wasn't true.  It had been three weeks since he'd last spent any time at all with Stiles. Phone in hand, he scrolled through his messages looking for clues as to when it all went wrong. The texts were fairly bland - messages about Stiles's demanding workload, Stiles turning down hanging out in favour of studying or completing assignments due or Stiles having to crash because he didn't sleep enough the night before. There were a lot of those but Derek was always respectful of Stiles's study habits. Stiles was respectful of his. It wasn't a big deal right? That's what he thought.

Then two days ago, he caught sight of Stiles as he was leaving the library and called out to him. He knew Stiles heard him because he turned around to look at Derek but then he quickly turned back the other way and continued walking away from him. It confused him and left a sour feeling in his gut.  He couldn't be sure, but he thought that the same thing happened yesterday, only Stiles saw him before he could call out and promptly headed in the opposite direction. So...yeah....things weren't good and he had no fucking clue how he screwed it up.

Closing down his messages, he looked at the picture that was his wallpaper. It was a picture of him and Stiles, heads close together, eyes fucking sparkling (he didn't even know that was a real thing, outside of romance novels until he saw the photo) and they were both laughing like idiots. Derek had forgotten what it meant to be happy so sometimes he was a little slow in recognizing when he was but looking at that picture of the two of them.....yeah, they'd been happy.  So what the hell went wrong? One minute they were kissing passionately and making promises for later in the day and the next it's three weeks of being lonely and unsure.

The sounds of footsteps had him looking up in time to see Stiles coming around the corner, skidding to a stop as he saw Derek camped outside his door. Stiles shifted his back pack off his shoulder, letting it slide down his arm, catching the straps before the bag hit the floor. He stood there a moment at the end of the hall, backpack in hand just looking at his boyfriend. Derek could see him visibly steel himself before continuing to his door. Derek got up and dusted himself off as Stiles approached him.

"Hey," said Stiles as he unlocked the door. He did a sideways nod as a signal for Derek to follow him. Derek did, waiting until he'd closed the door behind them before returning the greeting with one of his own.

"Hi."

Derek stood awkwardly at the door while Stiles walked over to his half of the room and dropped his bag on the floor next to his desk.  He kicked off his shoes and threw himself on the bed, laying on his back, looking up at the ceiling. Realising that Derek hadn't moved, he lifted his shoulders and head to look at him.

"You coming in Dude or you jus' gonna guard the door like that?"

"You gonna tell me what's been going on or you just gonna leave me hanging like an idiot?" His words were bitter but Derek made his way to Stiles's desk and sat down on the chair there, facing Stiles on the bed.

Stile heaved a big sigh but the boy who talked a mile a minute and wouldn't shut up said absolutely nothing. Derek couldn't believe it.  He stood up, torn between walking out of the room and crawling onto the bed next to Stiles and wrapping his arms around the young man.

"If you're breaking up with me, you should let me know," he said quietly. "It's a very douche move to leave me hanging like that. You should have said."

Stiles scrunched up his face as if he was trying not to cry and Derek felt his heart stutter. He moved to the bed and sat on the edge of it, placing a tentative hand on Stiles's hip. Suddenly Stiles bolted upright and grabbed Derek in a tight embrace, burying his face in Derek's neck. Derek could feel the wetness smear his skin. He hugged Stiles close, confused as ever but certain that whatever was going on with Stiles, they could see it through together.

"M'sorry Der," Stiles's words were muffled and watery. " Dont.. .donwannabreakup..... jus'sofuckin'messedup...soosorryD'rek."

Derek rubbed Stiles back in long comforting strokes. "Why don't you tell me what's going on in your head?"

Stiles pulled his head back and sniffed.  "I don't know what we're doing Derek. Why are we together? Do you even love me?"

The questions took Derek by surprise. He'd never said the words to Stiles. He still didn't think he had it in him to give the words to anyone ever again but how on earth could Stiles doubt why they were together? He pulled out his phone and showed it to his boyfriend. It was the wallpaper of the two of them that he'd been looking at earlier.

"Stiles, look at the background on my phone.  Look at the image of the two of us and ask me why we're together. Look at the way we're looking at each other, the way we're laughing together. Now look at us.  Look at us Stiles.  There's distance and tears and though this is unfolding rather civilly, I'm pretty sure we're fighting."

Stiles gave a little smile and bumped his forehead against Derek's  shoulder.

"You're a dork."

"Yeah but I'm your dork," Derek replied.  "Stiles, I don't know what triggered this but you know us. You know what we have together. Hold on to it. Hold on to me. The last three weeks have been so empty.  Stay with me."

"We're so messed up Derek.  I feel like I'm searching for something that I know I'll never find. I keep hoping for something from you that I'm afraid will never come. I don't want to spend my life waiting for Godot, Derek."

Derek leaned in and kissed Stiles tenderly. It felt like home. From the little sounds escaping Stiles, perhaps he'd missed it too.

"Stiles,  you're home for me. You know that there's nowhere that I'd rather be than with you.  You ask if I love you, well what can I say? I want to tell you that I do more than anything in the world because if anybody deserves to hear it, it's you. But I devalued the word with Kate.  You know my history. How can I tell you words I said to her when what I feel for you is so much more? I know what they mean to you but I can't give you those words Stiles. I can only give you me. So please don't cry anymore."

Stiles dabbed at the tears that were freely running down his cheeks before wiping his nose on his sleeve. Derek cupped his face and kissed him tenderly.   Stiles returned the tenderness before parting his lips and deepening the kiss, his fingers sliding through Derek's hair to hold his head in place. They were both panting as they parted.

"You are my dork Derek and you're my home too." Stiles said in between planting kissed all over Derek's face and neck. " You're never getting rid of me now."

"Is that right?" Derek pressed a smile against Stiles temple. "Prove it."

Stiles slid his hands up under Derek's Henley. "How?" he asked.

"Marry me."

For a second Stiles went absolutely still and the he scrambled backwards on the bed putting some distance between him and Derek.

"Did you...umm....did you just....fuck Derek....it sounded like you asked me to marry you..how...like what did you even..."

Derek shrugged trying to hide the sudden slam of uncertainty he was feeling. He hadn't planned on asking; it just happened...like organically or holistically or whatever the fuck the word was. But now that he had, he knew it was right and he wasn't going to take it back.

"Look Stiles, I don't mean like right away or anything.  We can wait until you're done with college but at least we'll both know the endgame here, what we're moving towards. I guess.."

"Shut up! Shut the fuck up!" Stiles interrupted.

Derek paused.

"You just asked me to marry you Derek."

Derek fought the urge to roll his eyes.

"That's right Captain Obvious," he responded. "I know this because I was right across from you when it happened. Also, because I did the asking like you pointed outmfffph..."

Stiles was on Derek, kissing the daylights out of him and Derek had the distinct feeling of being on a roller coaster.  When they came up for air he asked, "Is that a 'yes'?"

"No," replied Stiles and Derek felt his heart fall. "It's a 'Fuck Yes!' as in 'Fuck yes I'll marry you Derek!' "

They grinned at each other and then Derek grabbed Stiles by the shirt and pulled him in slowly and well....Stiles also had quite a ride that afternoon.


	5. And If This World Runs Out of Lovers We’ll Still Have Each Other

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the late update. I haven't been well and sadly it's not going to get better for a bit. So this will be slow going for a month or two but it will pick up I promise. I just want to say Thank You so much for your kudos and comments. You have no idea what it's meant to me. It's been pretty bleak lately but your notes have brightened up my life like you would not believe. You make it worth the effort.
> 
> Just a heads up....this chapter is pretty much smut on top of smut. If it's too much let me know. If it's not enough, let me know as well.

**NOW:**

Stiles studied the glass in hand -- the two ice cubes and the finger of amber whiskey at the bottom. He sipped his whiskey slowly, savouring the burn as it slid down his throat. He had a mild buzz going on and he was feeling just this side of happy. Date Night was awesome! Why hadn't he thought of this a long time ago?  Oh yeah, the being hung up on his ex and the fact that there hadn't been any offers might have had something to do with it. That wasn't really a surprise, he supposed. From the moment he'd met Derek, there hadn't been the desire or the need to play the Dating Game. He'd kept to himself even after the divorce so maybe he wasn't exactly giving off an "I'm-Available-So-Ask-Me-Out" vibe. Well that sort of stuff didn't matter anymore and those days were long behind him.  Yup, if Stiles wanted to date, he was damn well gonna date - even if it meant he had to date himself!

He reached over the side of his sofa and pulled the lever that kicked out the recliner function on the sofa and wiggled his body into a more comfortable position. So what if his date night meant he was at home with a bottle of Jack rather than out on the town with an actual guy named Jack. It was still going to be epic.  Holding the glass in his lap in one hand, he fiddled with the buttons on the remote with the other.  Finding the hidden folder on his external hard drive, he selected a file and the screen flicked to life and images animated the screen for his pleasure.  It had been a while since Stiles had gone through his collection of erotica but he was a little taken aback at how flat he found the first few minutes. The heat of the whiskey had started to flood his body however so he settled back to wait for something to happen.

After watching for a couple more minutes without feeling a stirring of any kind, he sighed in frustration and got up, unbuckled his belt and freed himself from his pants, kicking them away from him. He wasn't wearing any shoes but the socks and boxers he was wearing found themselves on the floor next to his pants.  On screen, one man knelt before another and apply his mouth for the pursuit of mutual pleasure. The man standing was well endowed, (well duh, small dicked guys do not have illustrious adult film careers which really was lamentable because he was sure there was a market for that even if it was just other small dicked guys who wanted the pleasure without the feelings of inadequacy...but he was digressing...oh yeah, he was trying to bring himself off), and made a show of stretching the other's lips as the kneeling man bobbed his head lustily, as if he couldn't get enough. Stiles remembered not being able to get enough of the taste and the feel of Derek's cock in his own mouth. Derek's cock was a thing of beauty. ...aaaand of course now the blood was now pooling between his legs making him hard.

In the motions of stroking his own length, Stiles remembered the feel of Derek's fingers pressing into his scalp, gripping his hair as he licked and sucked the older man's cock. He remembered the dirty words that would fall from Derek's lips as he praised Stiles mouth and spurred him on at the same time.  The film continued to play unheeded n the screen as Stiles got caught up in a blend of memories and fantasy and the sudden spasm and aching throb in his shaft convinced him to ease off a bit; he was stroking too hard and too wildly -- the orgasm would be intense but empty. . Reluctantly, he released his grip on his manhood and centred himself, breathing deeply. He glanced at the feature onscreen but it seemed dull and boring and repetitive. He watched as the guy who was previously standing but had moved on to pounding the ass of the previously kneeling man, suddenly ejected himself from the gaping hole of his partner and proceeded to ejaculate over his face in the standard porn flick ending.

Stiles looked down at his own penis and drew two fingers over the head, watching the long glimmering string that pulled away with it. Sliding the fingers against his thumb, he felt the exquisite slipperiness of his pre-ejaculate, and, in a moment of perverted daring, brought those fingers to his face where he painted his lips and plunged them in his mouth to sample the texture and taste. It was not the first time he'd tasted his spunk, but he had to admit it tasted better on Derek's lips or the inside of Derek's mouth than it did from his fingers.  He glanced sideways to what he called his toybox and made a decision.

He turned off the tv and moved to a kneeling position on the couch as if he were about to straddle an invisible partner. With thoughts of Derek in mind, he rocked himself up and down as if riding his lover, reaching one hand back to touch himself, the other holding on to the back of the couch.  God he felt so hot, and so horny just picturing it.  He sat up and reached into the box, pulled out his favourite toy that he'd affectionately named "Lil D'rek" and liberally applied the lube. He reassumed the position, breathing deeply to steady himself before reaching between his legs and pressing the realistic if generously sized dildo against his opening. Pushing upwards, he brought his hips down on it.  There was a ragged gasp as his squirming backside proved accommodating.               

"Fuhh......Uck!!!"

It had been some time since Stiles had anything inside him like that and the dull ache had him clenching his teeth and breathing in short steady puffs. The pain passed though and Stiles began to fuck himself in earnest. He drove the fake cock into his ass over and over again pretending it was Derek and the thought of him had his own cock rock hard and aching. He didn't touch it though. He knew from experience that he'd climax much too easily and he wanted this to last.  His mind raced to create fantasies to drive him over the edge but instead he found memories of him and Derek..their honeymoon where sucked Derek off in a cave opening just off the beach hidden from other holiday goers but close enough to hear their laughter and merrymaking; pressed up against a wall in an alley in the local town, his legs wrapped around Derek who fucked into him furiously, after a native propositioned Stiles so clearly Derek felt the need to stake his claim, to mark Stiles ( they were on their honey moon for fucks sakes) and Derek taking him hard in their bed the night they'd brought the twins home for the first time.

With so many stimulating thoughts sending mind into overdrive, he grabbed his length and began to masturbate furiously, never pausing as he continued to work the dildo into his ass.  The muscles of his backside tightened convulsively around the intruding length of the dildo and he pretended that it was Derek's  length being gripped so tightly inside him. He spilled his seed all over the leather sofa, his ass clenching in time to his strokes. Completely spent, he lay back for a couple moments before taking off his shirt and using it to clean off the leather.  When he finally got up, he tidied the room a little and collected his trousers and the toy box before heading up to his bedroom and starting the shower. It occurred to him that he was spent but not truly satisfied. That masturbation only provided relief but not fulfilment was a sad realization.

The water in the shower had only just begun to steam when his doorbell chimed. He opted to ignore it feeling a little irritated with his situation. The chime however rang again. And then again.  
  
Pulling on his pants hurriedly, while uttering a few choice cuss words directed at the persistent caller, he rushed, stubbing his toe on the way.

"Oedipus!"  It was a loud harsh whisper right at the front door and  Stiles took a moment to school his features before opening it.   Which was a good thing because he was floored by who was on the other side.

"Whoa!.....Hey!" He stammered out. "Deputy Parrish, how nice of you drop by. What can I do to you...uh I mean...for you."

 

**THEN:**

 

"Derek, this place is amazing, how did you even find it?"

They were standing outside a private guest house on the tiny island of Tobago in the southern Caribbean.  The guesthouse which was a former plantation estate, catered exclusively for a German private membership club and rested on top of a cliff that overlooked the Atlantic Ocean. There was a curving pathway down to the shore which led to a cove where there was a small beach that was for the sole use of the house guests and the house only had twelve apartments for use with half of those being one bedroom units and the other half being two bedroom units. There were also a formal dining and ballroom which served as a restaurant and there was a pool area (overlooking the ocean no less). There were also spa and fitness facilities for guests.

They had already checked into their room and were exploring the grounds.

"Professor Richter's family are members here and remember last year when I donated bone marrow for his daughter? Well he thought a week here would be the perfect wedding present and a thank you rolled into one."

Stiles reached up and planted a quick kiss on Derek's mouth.

"Your marrow helped saved her life but he didn't have to do this. I'll be sure to send him a thank you note once we get back ."

They walked along the edge of the cliff for a bit before stopping to gaze out at the ocean. Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek's waist and Derek returned the hug by wrapping his arms around Stiles's shoulders. He tilted his head down to rest on top of Stiles's head.

"I can't believe we're married." Stiles said softly. "We actually did it Derek. We're actually married and on our honeymoon."

Derek smiled into Stiles's hair. He knew that there were times when Stiles didn't think it would happen.  Ever since they got engaged, he'd catch Stiles looking at him as if he wasn't quite real; as if what they had wasn't quite real and Stiles was just waiting for him to realize it and then end things. But Derek was happy. OK sure, he wasn't very good at showing it but this was it for him. If the world ended, he'd be okay as long as he had Stiles.  He knew that no matter what, he and Stiles would have each other forever.

"I never doubted it until the officiant tried to say your real name and stalled the ceremony trying to get consensus on how it's pronounced." Derek smirked. "I thought that might have railroaded our matrimonial bliss if anything."

Stiles groaned. "I know right? I told the man to just say Stiles. Now everybody knows what my real name is after years of carefully hiding it. Not that anyone can even say it"

Derek's shoulders bounced with his laughter. The wedding had been planned during Stiles's last year of college and took place one week after his graduation in the Hale family backyard. The burnt out house had been cleared out and a new one had been built there.  Peter lived there but the property was owned by all four surviving Hales. Derek had hired an event planner and they'd had a traditional Hale night wedding which was attended by all their friends and family (not surprisingly a small intimate group).  They had forgone the usual vows to instead pledge their lives to each other under the full moon using the words all Hale brides and grooms before them had.

 That had been last night.  There had been drinking and dancing and merriment to greet the sun and everyone crashed at the house until it was time for Scott to drive them to the airport.  Tonight...tonight was their wedding night.  They'd made love countless times before but Derek found that he was looking forward to calling Stiles husband as he brought him to fulfillment. He whispered his thoughts to Stiles who promptly urged them back to the room. What they found there amazed them.

Aware that it was a honeymoon, the staff had decorated the room with rose petals and scented candles. The candles were all lit and the lights were dimmed and in the background there was soft romantic music playing.  They stood there with the door closed behind them, taking in the ambience and then  suddenly, Stiles turned and slammed Derek back against the door, capturing his mouth in a possessive kiss. Derek bent his knees and slid down a bit so that he could grab Stiles by the back of his thighs, lifting him up. Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek's neck and his legs around Derek's hips without breaking the kiss. Derek began to walk Stiles across to the bed where he let them both fall sideways onto it. There was a flurry of flailing arms and legs as they hurriedly peeled the clothes off each other flinging them away while they licked sucked and bit each centimetre of exposed skin as they uncovered it.

Finally naked and kneeling on the bed, Derek grabbed Stiles head with both of his hands, pushing it towards his cock. Stiles swallowed the length of him, his hand hand clasped firmly around the base, stroking him. He licked every inch of it, pulling off of it to rub it across his cheek. Impatient, Derek forced it back it Stiles's mouth, thrusting his hips as it went deeper and deeper in until Stiles's nose was pressed up against him, and Stiles was slightly gagging. He moaned out in pleasure, and Stiles pulled back to do it again. Derek could feel his dick pulsating against Stiles wet tongue though he was about to come, but he pulled out before he could. He let out another moan that made Stiles shiver.

"Fuck Derek," he whined, "I just want to taste your cum. Lemme have it Der." right

"Not yet," he said in a soft voice. "It's your turn"

Derek grabbed Stiles's cock with his hand and licked slowly around the balls. Stiles's eyes rolled back into his head in pleasure.

"Oh Der, you are so fucking talented," he moaned.

Derek's tongue made its way up Stiles cock, flicking the head rapidly before he took the entire length in his mouth and then moved his lips back to the end again, repeating this process and sucking slightly, his eyes looking up towards Stiles. Stiles whimpered with need.

 He flipped Stiles over onto his stomach before spreading his arse and started to aggressively lick his hole.  
  
"Fuck, I love your ass" he said, his tongue and lips and saliva lubricating Stiles's hole. He slid his finger in, causing Stiles to clench in want. He continued fucking him with his finger, adding a second. "Are you ready Husband o'mine?" he asked but he already knew the answer.

"Oh fuck yeah!" Stiles squealed. "Fuck me now Derek. Put it in me right now Derek!"

Derek pulled Stiles up on all fours, and pressed the tip of his cock against his hole slowly forcing its way inside. Stiles was eager and pushed back on his rock hard cock, forcing every inch inside. He slowly started to pull back out, and Stiles bit the pillow in response to the pain tinged pleasure. Derek picked up the pace and Stiles squirmed at the rush of feelings.

"I love feeling your huge dick inside me," he groaned. "Harder Husband! Fuck me harder!"

Derek grabbed his hips and pushed faster, harder, deeper and deeper inside his husband. The bed creaked and protested with every thrust. He pulled all the way out, and flipped them over so he was laying back on the bed. Stiles got on top of him, grabbed his dick and moved it towards his hole. He sighed as he slid down the length and pushed himself back up. Derek  was smiling up at Stiles muttering blissed out words that sounded suspiciously like "my husband, mine" to Stiles. Stiles dick was harder than ever as he bounced rapidly up and down on his spouses cock. Derek tried to jerk Stiles off but Stiles forced his hand away, knowing he could come at any second and wanting the feeling to last. Stiles's breathing got heavier while Derek's moans became more louder as he went deeper inside Stiles's hole.

Stiles climbed off and lay on his back. Derek moved towards the end of the bed and lifted both of Stiles legs onto his shoulders. He pushed hard into Stiles and soon the only sound other than Stile's little sobs of pleasure was the hard slapping of skin against skin.  Derek looked down watching his thick dick push inside Stiles, turning himself on even more. He fucked into him harder. He was getting rougher but Stiles loved it. Faster and faster he fucked him, the headboard of the bed slamming against the wall. He grasped Stiles cock and stroked him hard as he fucked him. Stiles clenched the bed sheet in pleasure, his head tossing from side to side as his moans got louder.

Derek squeezed Stiles's cock as he stroked and Stiles exploded in an eruption of cum all over his own stomach and chest. Derek never even slowed his pace but just continued fucking into Stiles like an animal. Stiles slid his fingers through his cum and eyes locked with Derek's, he licked until his fingers were clean. Derek groaned and pulled out, spraying his own cum all over Stiles's chest mixing their ejaculates together.

He flopped down next to his husband and turned his head to take Stiles mouth in a passionate kiss. The broke apart spent and sweaty and completely satisfied.

"Baby you are amazing," Derek said breathlessly."You so hot you're on fucking fire."

"This place is on fire." Stiles responded.

Derek laughed. "It is pretty great."

Stiles sat up abruptly and slapped Derek's shoulder repeatedly.

"No Dude, the place, this room is _really_ on fire. We gotta put it out Derek. Help!"

Derek sat up and holy fuck the place was in fact on fire. He'd tossed Stiles boxers too close to one of the lit candles and in the throes of sex hadn't even noticed when it went up in flames. Of course one end of the boxers was touching the candle and the other was pretty close to the curtains which meant the curtains had just started to burn.  He grabbed a complimentary bathrobe from on a chair next to the bed and started to beat the fire out. Stiles came running out of the bathroom with the two glasses from in there filled with water which he threw on the boxers. Some of it went on the CD player which was electricity powered so it sparked violently causing both men to jump back. The curtain flared even more causing the mirror next to it to char and shatter.

Luckily the fire alarm went off just then and the sprinkler system kicked in, drenching everything (and everyone) in the room. It did put out the fire however. Both men scrambled to cover themselves as there was loud pounding on the door which probably meant the staff was trying to get in.

Later that evening as they sat outside wearing nothing but towels while the local fire services checked out the room, the staff arranged other accommodations and the other guests looked at them warily whilst making their way t the dining room, Stiles reached over and took Derek's hand. Derek was looking as if everything was ruined and it was solely his fault.

Stiles leaned over and sweetly kissed his cheek before saying,

"Well if anyone asks how the honeymoon was, we won't be lying when we tell them the sex was so hot it set the place on fire."

Derek gave a little chuckle which turned into a giggle and when Stiles joined in the giggles turned into full bellied laughter. If the other guest thought the newlyweds were plum crazy, well neither man cared because they were together and they had each other.


	6. Every Rose Has Its Thorn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, thank you, thank you for your support and kind words. This fandom is incredibly supportive and I really do love you guys. You're all so wonderful. As always tell me what you like and what you don't because you matter.

Now:

 

“Dude, you’ll never guess what just happened!”

 

Stiles had just gotten out of his shower and was in the process of drying himself off but was too excited to wait any longer to inform Scott about the latest developments in his life.  He’d dialed Scott, putting the call on speaker phone as he traipsed naked around his bedroom.

 

“I don’t have to,’ Scott replied dryly, “because you’re going to tell me aren’t you?

 

“Damn straight my brother…well maybe not so straight because hey….it’s me we’re talking about..”

 

“So this is about you?” Scott interrupted, “Because if I had to guess, it would have been about the declining blue whale population in the North Pacific ocean.”

 

“Don’t even!” Stiles retorted. “Of course this is about me, it should always be….err wait….is the population of blue whales really on the decline? Cuz that would suck balls man. Should we like start one of those Save the Whales campaign? Those things are majestic creatures Scott. Majestic!”

 

On the other end of the telephone line,  Scott just shook his head and smiled. Sometimes it felt like he and Stiles  had never stopped being the kids they were in high school. Those were the best times because sometimes being an adult could be overwhelming, you know? He wished he could let Stiles know how much he loved him.

 

“Did you take your meds today?” was what he went with instead.

 

Stiles thought about it for a second before replying in the affirmative.  He had finished towel drying his hair and had thrown the wet towel on the footboard of the bed. He slipped into his boxers as he continued to ramble.

 

" I gots me a date, man!" he said before he started chanting in a sing-songy voice "Stiles is gonna get some...oh yeah...Stiles is gonna get some..."

 

Scott could hear the grin in Stile's voice and he couldn't stop the mirroring grin that crept onto his own face.  This was the complete opposite of the last time he and Stiles chatted and he was happy for his friend. If Derek could date and be happy then it was only fair that Stiles got to do the same as well.

 

"Are you gonna tell me who with?" he asked.

 

"Deputy Pretty Eyes."

 

"Parrish? Who works with your dad? I knew he was interested!"  Scott had seen him speculatively eyeing his best friend too many times not to realize there was attraction there.  Apart from Stiles once commenting that Parrish had really pretty eyes ("but not as amazing as Derek's" he'd been sure to add) Scott had never got the slightest sense of interest on Stiles's part.

 

"Details. Gimme details now," he demanded.

 

Stiles laughter came through the line.

 

"Dad had mentioned it a while back," said Stiles. "That Kyle had approached him saying he was thinking about asking me out but I never really thought he was serious. I mean I've been a single dad for a while now. He could have asked me out at any time but he never did, right? But he came over tonight and asked me if I wanted to go to dinner this weekend. Man I flailed so hard it wasn't even...well I was just about flabbergasted. He had to ask me twice and reassure me it wasn't a prank.  I told him I'd have to confirm that Derek had the kids but I'd like it very much thank you. You know what he said? Scott, he said if I couldn't get a baby sitter, we could take the kids with us...that it'd just mean a change of venue. How fricking awesome is that?"

 

"That's pretty awesome bro," Scott replied. "We always said he was one of the good ones."

 

"Yeah. Apparently while the kids were at the station with Pops, he took them down to the craft store and spent some time with them. We may just have a winner here Scotty-Boy."

 

There was a bit of a pause on Scott's end and as the silence stretched, Stiles felt just a little uncomfortable. "Scott?"

 

"What's your definition of winner here Stiles?" Scott's voice was thoughtful. "I mean I'm all for you getting back in the dating game and what not but this sounds like it's getting serious before it's even gotten the chance to start. Like, are you looking for something serious? You just got out of a marriage to a guy you've been with since like forever and have two kids with."

 

Stiles sighed heavily, the buzz of having been asked out on a date steadily wearing off.  

 

"I dunno Scott. I mean it's just a date right? But if it could lead to more, why not pursue it? I get lonely man. I'm tired of being lonely."

 

Throat tight and heart breaking, Scott blinked rapidly. He wanted nothing more than for his brother to be happy. He worried though. He worried that maybe there were outside influences pushing Stiles forward here. He didn't know if that was a good or bad thing.

 

"Hey, I didn't mean to pee on your party hat man. It's just that earlier today you were so down over that newspaper clipping.  If this date works out to be what you want and need, then you know I will babysit as often as you need me to. But if this is just because you're scared about being left behind as Derek moves on to someone else...well, that's just not a good place to be starting from. You hear me bro?"

 

Stiles lifted the handset off the base, effectively switching from speaker phone to regular receiver. He threw himself backwards on the bed and exhaled slowly.

 

"I hear you and I guess a part of me doesn't want to be the one standing alone in the background. I am scared of being left behind. After Mom died and I was alone in the hospital...." his voice choked a little, "well I am always afraid of being left behind. You know this but the timing thing is not me man. I don't know why he asked tonight of all nights but lemme tell you bro, I am so fucking glad he did.  I haven't been on a date in so long, I have forgotten how to ask anyone out. But he came here and now I don't have to. He's handsome with amazing eyes, a great body that fills out his uniform just...ugh...he's hot like burning and he wants to date me. I want to date him. So I'm going to."

 

Both men were smiling at that point.

 

"Okay then," said Scott. "My offer to babysit stands. Hey, where are Mario and Luigi anyway? Shouldn't they be back from their friend's birthday party by now?"

 

"They're spending the night with Pops,"  Stiles face grew soft as he thought of his kids having a seepover with his dad. "I wanted to give myself the option of getting totally shitfaced tonight if I felt like it and I couldn't do that if they were here. Derek was to have dropped them back there after their laser tag adventure.  He's actually supposed to have them this weekend so I should be good for Saturday night but if it changes I'm going to hold you to that, okay?"

 

Scott agreed and then they rang off. Stiles lay there in the bed and for the first time that night, became aware of the absolute stillness in the house. He closed his eyes, not in the least bit tired or ready for sleep but appreciating the solitude and the silence. He felt poised to make some life changes and was feeling pretty zen about the future which was great after the day he'd had.

 

The sharp trilling of the telephone had him jumping in his skin. He shook off his nerves and glanced at the call display. It was his neighbour, Mrs Salermo wanting to know why his husband (she never believed the divorce was real) was sitting in his car, in the dark, parked on the street across from the house.  He shot up off the bed and turned off the bedroom light before going to the window to take a peek from behind the curtains. Yup, there was Derek's vehicle parked across the street like she said.  He assured her he would find out and thanked her for calling.

 

After he hung up, he continued to watch the vehicle discreetly but there was no movement. Derek Hale had to be the creepiest creeper who ever crept. Stiles remembered when he thought that was endearing.  After about fifteen minutes of nothing, he picked up the phone and dialled.

 

 

 

Then:

 

Derek let himself into the house he and Stiles had bought together. It was a beautiful two storey, four bedroom home with an open concept floor plan. They'd fallen in love with it the minute the realtor had pulled up to the curb. It was in Beacon Hills which was an hour's commute from the Federal Building his office was located in but it was worth the drive to come home to this house where Stiles had waxed poetic about their future children growing up here while they grew old here. On days like today, when he was especially tired from having to visit a case location, it always gave him a little thrill to pull into the driveway and think, "honey I'm home".

He was in fact, just about to shout it out to Stiles, who was probably upstairs in bed when he noticed the dinner table all laid out, the half burnt candles and what looked like a smashed wine glass collected in a dustpan sitting on top of the granite counter top.

"Oh shit" he whispered to himself.

As if a light bulb went off in his head, he fished his phone out from his pants pocket. He'd turned it off when he got to the site for a meeting there and then had forgotten to turn it back on. He turned it on and then scrolled though his log. Seven missed calls, two voicemails and eleven text messages. All of them asking where he was. Stiles's tone had moved from excited to worried to angry and then to resigned.

"Oh shit" he whispered again.  

They were supposed to be celebrating Stiles getting a contract with the local District Attorney's office to audit cold cases. When he'd gotten the call, he'd proudly announced that he was now a "Consulting Detective" and Derek had bought him a blue scarf and a Sherlock hat. They'd laughed and planned this dinner to really commemorate the occasion. Derek had voted to go out but Stiles had complained that it had been so long since Derek's schedule had allowed them to have a nice quiet romantic evening at home and that there was nothing more in the world that he'd wanted. So they'd booked this night, Derek was supposed to have cleared his agenda, Stiles was going to order in their favourite meals and the plan was nothing beyond feeding each other and slow mind blowing physical intimacy.

It was a good plan...an excellent plan in fact. Except he'd gone and fucked it all up. He took the stairs two at a time.

Stiles was not in bed as he'd imagined but was sitting in the armchair next to the window with a glass of whiskey in hand.

"Stiles, I'm so sorry," he began as he shrugged off his jacket and began to undo his tie. "I was at a site meeting..."

"Save it Derek." Stiles's voice was flat. He sounded drained, empty. "Whatever excuse you're about to throw my way, I've heard it before. I really don't want to rehash old arguments. I just want to enjoy my whiskey."

Derek would have preferred angry. Angry was something he could react to. He could fight back if Stiles was angry and then they'd make up. As Derek began climbing the totem pole at work, there had been many many fights over missed dates, reduced time together, and Stiles feeling like he was becoming less and less important to Derek. Fighting was familiar and he knew how to manoeuvre when it came to fighting. Lately though, Stiles seemed less inclined to fight and more inclined to sulk. Derek hated the sulks.

He slipped off his shirt and undid the button on his pants before walking over to where Stiles was sitting. He stooped down on his haunches in front of his husband, a hand on the edge of each armrest. Stiles did not look at him but had his head turned to the side as if he was gazing out the window. Derek could see the glassy sheen of his eyes however and the track marks on his cheek. It pained him that he hurt Stiles so.

"Stiles," he pleaded softly, "l really am sorry. Look at me please."

Stiles did not. He shook his head and said to the window, "Leave me alone Derek. I just want to enjoy my drink in peace and not think about you or us or any-fucking-thing at all. You've mastered the art of leaving me alone so why do you put that talent to use right now and...leave...me...the..fuck...alone."

Derek went shock still for a moment. Stiles hadn't raised his voice a single decibel but his words hurt like a banshee's scream. He stayed where he was for a few heartbeats and then he got up and went into the adjoining bathroom. He flicked on the lights and bracing his hands on the counter top, he stared at his image in the mirror. He was doing his best he told his reflection. He'd worked his ass off to get where he was and he was so close to meeting his career goals. None of this was a secret to Stiles. Derek had had his five and ten year plan long before he met Stiles and he'd shared these plans when they started dating seriously. Stiles signed on for this so why the fuck did it feel like his marriage was so off course when everything else in his life was happening in perfect alignment with his plan. _Fuck!_ He felt like breaking something.  He turned on the water faucet, scooped some water in his hands and scrubbed his face with it.

Outside in the bedroom, Stiles heard the water come on and let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. He felt so conflicted. He knew on the surface it looked like he was pushing Derek away but underneath that was the feeling that he was being left behind. Derek was so caught up in a world that Stiles had no place in and it was also beginning to eat away at what little was left in their shared world. His husband felt more like a roommate than a life partner.  They saw each other less and less as Derek travelled more and more. There were nights when Derek came in after he'd fallen asleep and mornings when he was out the house long before Stiles even woke up.  Stiles had begged Derek a few times to wake him before Derek left the house, but Derek never did, claiming he'd feel guilty if he robbed Stiles of sleep. Stiles had set the alarm once when Derek refused to wake him but it was awkward and not the loving morning farewell that Stiles had envisioned. He did not repeat that endeavour.

He downed the remaining whiskey in a single shot and rolled his neck back as the warn burn crept down his throat. He wish he knew how to fix this but anything he said or did made him look like a nagging househusband.  Looking at his empty glass he contemplated pouring himself another to push him into sleep when he heard the doorbell ringing. He ignored it for a bit but whoever it was, was persistent. Glass in hand he went to check it out.

Stiles opened the door to find his sister-in-law, Laura, there looking  somewhat worse for the wear. He hugged her and then stepped to the side to let her in.  As he closed the door behind her, Derek came down the stairs. He'd changed into an old t-shirt and shorts.

Laura looked at her brother and gave a wobbly smile.

"Oh good you're both here," she said. "I am sorry about coming over this late but I have an announcement to make and it's taken me forever to work up the courage to tell you and if I don't do it now, well I don't know..."

Her breath hitched and she reached a hand back to Stiles for support. He stepped in behind her and taking her hand in one of his, he wrapped the other around her waist.  Derek surged forward and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Laur'?" Derek searched her face for clues but found none. "You want to come sit? I could make you some tea."

Laura cupped his face with her free hand and shook her head no. "Not just yet baby brother. Let me get this out first and then we'll have tea."

She pulled Stiles around from behind her until he was standing next to Derek and looked at them both with a soft sad smile on her face.

"I love you both so much," she said. "I'm so happy you found each other and I'm proud of you, so proud of you and the life you're building together."

A tear leaked out of her left eye and trailed down her very Hale cheekbone. "I'm sorry, so sorry Derek. I promised you after the fire that I would never leave you and I'd always be there for you and I would have Derek, I would have, only I can't, but I want to so badly and I wish I could. Tell me you'll forgive me. Tell me you understand."

"Oh fuck." Stiles had been through this before. He got it and he started to cry as he wrapped his arms around Laura. She hugged him back, her eyes never leaving Derek who looked thoroughly bewildered.

"Laura?" Derek sounded much like he did the night of the fire when his brain refused to  understand what had happened even though it was right in front of him and he'd turned to his big sister to help him through it. "Laura, what's going on? Stiles why are you crying?"

"Oh Derek," her smile was sad and watery, "I'm dying baby brother. I'm ill and I am going to die."


	7. I Think It's Kinda Funny, I Think It's Kinda Sad....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are the best. Thank you for the support and the reads and the comments. I love hearing from you. You brighten my life.

NOW:

Derek took one more look at the house he used to call home and let out a deep breath. He needed to leave. There was nothing to be gained from, overwhelmed by helplessness, staring his failures in the face; He should simply move on, the way Stiles was moving on. He'd been surprised to see lights on in the house, thinking that Stiles would not have been home since it wasn't too late. There weren't any strange cars in the driveway but that didn't have to mean anything. This 'Jake' guy could have taken a taxi here or Stiles could have driven them back here after meeting in town or something. Chances were actually in favour of the guy being in there with Stiles rather than the date being a bust and Stiles coming home alone.

He'd been prepared to leave once he figured that out but then he realised that it wasn't just the lights on the ground floor that were on but that the lights in the fucking bedroom were on too. Why were the lights in the bedroom on? He'd sat there puzzling that little question when the lights went dark. So...okay, the upstairs light went dark but the downstairs lights were still on. What did that mean? If Stiles was home alone and was ready for bed, then all the lights would be off, right?  And if Stiles was home alone and ready for bed, but was upstairs, then he'd probably leave those lights on while he came downstairs to turn those lights off and then when he got back upstairs, he'd turn the bedroom lights off last. Right? That made sense didn't it? So what would explain the bedroom lights being on and now off while the downstairs lights were still on?

Derek cringed to think about it but he couldn't deny the possibility that maybe, just maybe, the guy and Stiles had been having dinner at the table he fucking paid for in the dining room of the house he was _still_ fucking paying for and it had gone really well so they moved the party upstairs to the bedroom and were currently engaged in lewd acts in his fucking matrimonial bed!  Fuck! He was driving himself crazy. He contemplated ringing the doorbell to interrupt whatever the hell was going on but decided against it because he really didn't have a good excuse apart from 'I need to cock block you in order to sleep at night'.  Fuckity-Fuck! Derek felt paralyzed. He needed to leave immediately for his own sanity but yet he couldn't bring himself to start the car and drive away. Fuck.

He was sitting in silence, in the dark, willing himself to action, any action, when the loud blaring of his ringtone scared the bejeezus out of him. He fumbled the phone as he tried to answer the call but managed to hit the talk button.

"Hale," he answered.

"Dammit Derek!" Stiles voice was loud and brash in the confines of his vehicle. "You, my weird man, are the stalkiest stalker to ever stalk!"

"Umm...." Derek was at an absolute loss for words.

"I see you parked out there," continued Stiles when it was clear that Derek wasn't going to find coherence anytime soon. "You gonna sit out there all night like a loser or are you coming in?"

Wait what? Stiles was inviting him in? Wasn't he on a date?

"Aren't you on a date?" he asked.

"Oh my good Gawd! Derek!"  Stiles tone could actually convey an eye roll. Who knew? "Is that why you're parked out there? Are you vacillating between coming in and possibly interrupting my non-existent date or not coming in and thus not interrupting something that’s not even happening? What is even…you…argh?"

That wasn't exactly accurate but Derek was willing to let Stiles believe that one. And again…wait what? Non-existent date?

“What happened to Jake?” he asked.

"Jack, Derek… as in my bottle of Jack Daniels.” There was the eye roll tone again. “Derek, get your ass in here right now."

And Stiles hung up. 

To his everlasting shame, Derek actually considered starting the car and high tailing it out of there, despite having been caught. As he ran through the consequences of doing so however, the option was taken away from him when Stiles opened the front door and stood in the entryway, arms folded. Heaving a weighted sigh, he got out of the car and crossed the street to the house.

 

“You could have pulled into the driveway, you know.” Stiles informed him as Derek trudged past him into the foyer. “What are you doing here anyway?”

 

Derek waited for Stiles to close the door before answering, “I’m not sure actually. After I dropped the boys off at your dad’s, I found my way here without even thinking about it. I swear there was no conscious thought involved.”

 

Stiles led the way into the kitchen-dining area where Derek took a seat on a stool around the kitchen island Stiles sat to the side of him on the other side of the corner.

 

“Seriously Stiles,” he continued, “I didn’t mean for this to be weird. It just sort of happened.”

 

Waving it away with a casual hand, Stiles smiled at his former husband. He and Derek hadn’t had any time alone since before the divorce and however this may have come about, he was just happy to have it at all.

 

“No worries.” He said. “This place was home for so long for you and on some levels I guess it still is.” He cocked a questioning eye at Derek. “Hey did you eat anything at all this evening? I have some left over Bigos I can heat up for you.”

 

Derek felt his spirits lift. He hadn’t eaten and Stiles used a family recipe for the Polish ‘Hunter’s Stew’ that he absolutely loved.

 

“I could eat,” he replied eagerly but Stiles had already started moving towards the fridge.

He sat in silence as Stiles prepped the dish, enjoying the familiar feel of family. It occurred to him that in the last few years of his marriage, he’d forgotten how much he’d enjoyed Stiles’s cooking and sharing meals with him. There’d been good food, Stiles non-stop chattering, lots and lots of laughter and more often than not, a meal shared with Stiles ended in kisses and touching and shared pleasure. He wondered when that had slowly slipped from him and how he’d let it happen.

 

Derek tried to work up the courage to ask Stiles to eat with him, but was relieved that he didn’t have to when he realised that Stiles had warmed a smaller dish for himself. Stiles chatted as they ate, questioning Derek about his life, what was going on with his job and how his family and friends were since he didn’t see Cora, Isaac, Peter, Erica and Boyd all that much anymore. Derek answered easily, even going so far as to regale Stiles with funny anecdotes about them that had him pealing in laughter. Derek surprised himself by talking more than he usually did; it felt so easy and natural.

 

After dinner they did the dishes together and then moved to the family room each with a drink in hand. Without realizing it, they talked late into the night, crossing over into the hours of early morning. For the first time in years, Derek felt truly at peace, content and happy and he loathed ending it. But Stiles eyelids were beginning to droop, so he didn’t have much of a choice. He got up slowly and walked over to where Stiles curled into the couch.

 

“C’mon Sleepyhead,” he said as he took Stiles’s hand and gently pulled him to his feet. “I’m beat and you so obviously need to get to bed.”

 

Half asleep and boneless, Stiles let himself be tugged upright before slumping into Derek’s arms. Of their own accord, his arms looped around Derek’s neck and drew his head down for a tender kiss. Maybe it was muscle reflex or memory, or maybe it was because he too was half asleep and half aware, but Derek responded immediately pressing back against the mouth that kept him wide awake most nights when it wasn’t fuelling his fantasies in slumber.

 

Stiles threaded his fingers through Derek’s hair and Derek tightened his arms around Stiles’s body. Both men deepened the kiss further and further until it was stark arousal and hunger that brought awareness, pushing them apart, panting but eyes on each other.

 

Derek spoke first.

 

“I am so sorry Stiles.”   The younger man stiffened and Derek flinched but continued. “I mean I’m sorry if you feel I took advantage of your drowsiness. That wasn’t my intent and I didn’t mean to kiss you.”

 

Stiles looked down at the ground cheeks red. They both knew he initiated the kiss but truly Derek was glad he had.

 

“I don’t regret the kiss though,” he assured Stiles. “I’ll never regret any affection or intimacy we share.” He waited for Stiles to say something but when he didn’t, Derek kept talking. “Thank you for a wonderful evening. This…this was the best time I’ve had in a quite some time but I’ve got a long drive ahead of me so I’d better leave now.”

On impulse, he stepped forward and brushed a chaste kiss against Stiles’s lips before turning around to make his way out. It was only a couple of steps taken when he heard Stiles’s voice, soft but clear.

 

“Stay.”

 

He stopped and looked back at Stiles.

 

“Stay.” Stiles repeated. “It’s too late to be driving and you’ve had a couple of drinks, so…ummm…just stay here tonight. Tomorrow you can go where ever you need to.”

 

Derek wasn’t the least bit inebriated but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He did want some clarification however.

 

“On the couch?” he asked.

 

Stiles blushed. “Don’t be ridiculous. Upstairs. With me. Christ on a pogo stick Derek, are you staying or not?”

 

Derek walked back to Stiles and tenderly cupped his cheek with his hands.

 

“Stiles,” he said softly, “if I go upstairs with you, I..”

 

“I kissed you first.” Stiles interrupted. “I kissed you and now I’m inviting you to stay with me tonight. In my bed. I know what I’m doing. I want this. Do you?”

 

Derek felt as if his heart was going to pound right out of his chest.

 

“Yes,” he said. “There hasn’t been anyone since you. You have no idea how much I want this.”

 

“Me too,” Stiles said sheepishly. “There hasn’t been anyone since you either.”

 

Well if that didn’t have Derek feeling stupidly giddy. He grinned widely causing Stiles to roll his eyes. Stiles shook his head as he walked past Derek on his way to the stairs.

 

“Lock up and come to bed Derek,” he tossed out to the older man. And that’s exactly what Derek did.

 

 

THEN:

“Get out of bed Stiles.”

 

Stiles just pulled the covers tighter. He could hear Derek moving around the room but he refused to open his eyes.

 

“We need to talk about how to deal with this and we can’t if you keep pretending to be asleep.”

 

There was a slight edge to Derek’s tone that Stiles could take issue with if he felt inclined to argue. He didn’t. There had been enough of that already. There was nothing he could say without opening up a can of worms he did not think his husband was ready to deal with. Hell, he wasn’t ready to even think about some of this far less talk about it. Right now Derek’s voice was just noise in his head that he could do without.

 

“Fine!” Derek’s voice sounded exasperated now. “I have to go. Stay in bed if you like but I am calling your Dad.”

 

Then the sounds faded and eventually Stiles fell back asleep.

 

When he woke up, the clock told him it was a little before 10:00 am. He was hungry so he dragged himself out of bed and into the bathroom. As he brushed his teeth and showered, he thought about Laura. It was so unfair that beautiful Laura who was so full of life had so little of it left. It had been about a week since she’d come over in the night with her news. It had been a week of tears and anger and railing against the Fates. And that had just been him.

 

Derek in typical Derek fashion had taken the news like a soldier – stiff upper chin, stoic demeanour and immediately assessing the impact on his five and ten year life plans. He’d already begun planning adjustments to mitigate variance. If Stiles wasn’t intimately aware of just how flesh and blood and bone and sinew Derek was, he’d think his husband was a robot. It always came back to his stupid plans. ‘ _Must stick to the plan_.’ It made Stiles want to barf at times.

 

He’d just made his way downstairs to the kitchen when his Dad came in through the kitchen door using a key from the set the guys had given him. He looked surprised to see Stiles up and about.

 

“Oh, I thought you might have still been in bed,” the Sheriff said, “or I’d have rung the doorbell.”

 

Derek had actually called his Dad. Stiles was so going to give him a piece of his mind when he got home.

 

“Uh..no…cuz I’m not a child anymore Dad. I can actually function without my father keeping me in line.”

 

The Sheriff pulled out a stool and sat at the island. “Son, I raised you. I am fully aware of how much of a child you can be.”

 

“Haha,” Stiles mocked. “Why are you in law enforcement instead of comedy again? Oh yeah! It cuz you’re not funny.”

 

The Sheriff laughed softly to himself. He’d missed his son’s special brand of snark.

 

“Are you making something to eat?” he asked. “Make enough for two. I just got off night duty and was on my way home.”

 

“Sure thing Pops.”

 

Stiles whipped them up some egg white omelets with salsa on top. He was still keen on making sure his dad ate healthy even though they no longer lived together. They were almost finished eating when the older Stilinski got around to the reason for his visit.

 

“So you wanna tell me why your husband thinks you’re on the verge of some sort of breakdown? I mean I understand this thing with Laura is hard to deal with, but shouldn’t it be him who’s refusing to get out of bed?”

 

“Derek refuse to get out of bed?” Stiles scoffed. “That would mess up the life plan and we all know that can’t happen.”

 

He pushed his plate away and looked at his father who sat there waiting for Stiles to do what he did best – talk.

 

“Laura is giving us her eggs.”

 

The Sheriff choked on his coffee. “What?” he spluttered. Then he shook his head. “No. Actually son, you need to start at the beginning. I know that Laura has cancer and it is terminal but that’s all I know. What is it? What exactly is killing her?”

 

“Mesothelioma. She has Mesothelioma in her lungs and in her abdomen. It’s not curable so it’s only a matter of time.” Stiles’s voice was subdued.

 

“Asbestos cancer? I thought that type was pretty rare because you could only get it through prolonged exposure to asbestos.”

 

Stiles nodded. “Primarily yes but you can also get it through other means. If you work in an older industrial environment where it’s still present like factories or on military camps and ships and that type of stuff. If you have a chest injury that weakens the lungs you can get it from that too.”

 

“Laur’ got it from that time after the fire when she was working in construction until the trial and insurance sorted itself out. The company she was working with was doing renos on buildings that had asbestos. Only they didn’t tell their workers about it and they didn’t protect them properly. She inhaled that shit and it sat latent in her lungs all this time, hiding like a time bomb. Only now it’s gone off.

 

“Christ, son.” The Sheriff was visibly shocked. “I’m surprised Derek doesn’t have a crack shot legal team all over that.”

 

“Oh he does.” Stiles responded. “There’s a class action suit going on. Apparently it has been going on for a couple years now. Derek’s started handling Laura’s affairs now so he’s on it. It’s actually a good outlet for him. It gives him something to focus on, a channel to vent.”

 

“So what’s the story with you? Is it about the eggs thing?”

 

Stiles swallowed down the last of his coffee and took a moment to consider his answer.

 

“Yes and no, I guess?” He really wasn’t sure. “When Laura came over the other night to tell us, she’d also made some decisions about her body that she wanted to share. Shortly after coming to terms with her diagnosis, she harvested her eggs. She’ll never be a mother herself. Theoretically, she’ll probably live longer than the 9 months of gestation – the doctors gave her a little over a year – but her body will be too weak to see it to term. Also if she becomes pregnant, she’ll not be able to take meds to manage her pain and other symptoms.”

 

“So anyway, she’s given the rights to her eggs to me and Derek so that any future children we have will be truly Stilinski-Hale offspring. It’ll be like a baking a boxed cake. Just add the Stiles juice and voila, kids with the genetic combination of both parents.”

 

The Sheriff frowned at the flippant tone of his son. This was not like Stiles despite his penchant for masking feelings with sarcasm and humour.

 

“That’s incredibly generous of her,” he commented. “Why the attitude then?”

 

And really that was the million dollar question wasn’t it? Why was Stiles having a hard time with something so amazing and miraculous and what he would have wanted eventually anyway?

 

“I don’t know Dad,” he said. “Derek keeps wanting to talk about it and I keep avoiding it because …I guess I’m afraid of the conversation.”

He collected the plates and put them in the sink to rinse later. Turning around to face to his father, he leaned back against the counter.

 

“I know Derek,” he began. “I know him and his need to control the events around him. Ever since the fire, he’s blamed himself for being spontaneous and acting out of character with Kate. He really believes that if he’d just stuck to his plan to get a sport scholarship instead of letting himself get distracted by what he thought was love, his family would still be alive.”

Stiles took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before continuing.

 

“Now he’s going to lose Laura and he hasn’t said anything but I know there’s a tiny part of him that is thinking she’s dying because he didn’t stick to the plan. She’s dying because he caused the fire, forcing her to get that job with the construction company, exposing her to the damned asbestos. And if he wanted to have a conversation about that, I would so be there for that. I’d tell him until I ran out of words that none of this is his fault and life just sucks sometimes.”

 

He looked at his dad. “After Mom died, it took us a long time to understand that, but we got it eventually, didn’t we Dad?”

 

His dad blinked back the wetness in his eyes and nodded. Stiles gave him a weak smile.

 

“But Derek doesn’t want to have _that_ conversation. Derek wants to talk about adjusting ‘the plan’” Stiles crooked his fingers into air quotation actions here, “and making an annex to the existing plan.

 

“That tells me why Derek doesn’t want to have the conversation he doesn’t want to have but it doesn’t tell me about the conversation you don’t want to have.”

 

The Sheriff pinned Stiles with a sharp look and damn if Stiles didn’t sometimes forget just how good his dad was at his job. There was a reason this man solved crimes for a living and that ability to zero in on key details was just a tiny part of it.

 

“It’s the baby thing,” he caved. “Having a family was always part of the long term picture but I’m too young now. I mean yeah, I work on contract and between the part time status of my job with the DA’s office and if I get the gig at Beacon Hills Community College, that would just be a couple hours a week so theoretically I could pull off being a father but really Dad, I’m too young to be a parent. I mean for goodness sake, I can barely parent myself. You’re here right now checking up on me. I’m not ready to be a parent.”  
He was rambling, he knew it but he couldn’t stop.

 

“Whoa, whoa whoa!” The Sheriff put his hands up in a stopping motion. “I missed the part where someone is asking you to have a kid right away. I thought the eggs were on ice for future use.”

 

“Yeah they are,” Stiles deflated. “And nobody has brought up having a kid now. But she’s doing this amazing thing for me and I kinda have this thought in my head of how great it would be if I could give that to her now, you know? If we had a baby now and she could know just for a little bit what it felt like to be a Mom, to hold a baby that she made in her arms, sing it to sleep, take a picture with it so he or she could look at it after…after… and see the love she had for him or her shining in her eyes. I remember how Mom looked at me. I don’t want Laura to die without knowing that. Hell Dad, I want to give this to her so badly but it’s so big it scares me.”

 

Mr. Stilinski got up, walked over to his son and wrapped him up in a tight hug. The tears he’d been blinking back earlier were sliding down the sides of his face now.

 

“Oh Stiles,” he offered. “I love you so much. You make me proud.”

 

Stiles sniffed into his father’s shoulder like he’d done a thousand times growing up. This was still the safest place on earth for him.

 

When they broke apart, he added, “It’s pointless really. Having a child now is so in contravention of the established plan; Derek won’t know what to do.”

 

“Well I guess he’ll have to make an annex for the annex, huh?”

 

They both cracked up laughing, arms still around each other’s shoulders.

 

“So are you going to be okay?” the Sheriff asked. “Have you decided what you want to do?”

 

Stiles nodded. “Derek will deal. He’s good at dealing.”

 

Patting his father on the back, he disentangled himself and walked over to the phone. He glanced back at his dad as he dialled and waited for pick up. His face broke into a grin as he heard the voice on the other side.

 

“Hey Laura” he said, feeling more upbeat than he had since the night she came over, “any chance you can swing by here tonight? There’s something I want to talk to you and Derek about.”

 


	8. There's Got To Be A Morning After...

NOW:

 

Stiles came awake slowly and with a smile. He could feel Derek pressed against the length of him, an arm curled possessively around Stiles' middle, pulling him back into the little spoon position. It was the feeling of all skin that thrilled, as they were both gloriously naked under the sheets. Derek was pressing light kisses and bites against his shoulder blades and it was bliss. He'd missed this so much. Waking up naked with Derek was on his top ten list of the best things life. He contemplated lying there just like that for a bit more, or turning around to reacquaint his face with Derek's morning stubble. (It was always softer just before Derek trimmed it down).

Derek however had other plans. He slid his hand down Stiles' body from shoulder to hip before patting him gently on the rump.

"Stay in bed," he said as he rolled away from Stiles and off the bed. "I'll go make us something to eat and bring you breakfast in bed."

Stiles groaned, torn between wanting the promised food but not wanting to miss another minute of being pressed up against Derek.

"Noooooooooo," he decided. "Come back to bed. I want more of last night this morning. Last night was fucking amazing."

It had been. Stiles had been with four people before Derek. Three of those had been one-night stands and the fourth was a two week fling with a girl he'd grown up with. So he didn't have a significant sample size to draw a conclusion from but he could say definitively that Derek always left him wrecked  with satisfaction. Their sex life had always been hot. It was varied, they weren't shy with each other, were vocal about what they wanted or liked and they were always willing to try just about anything.

Damn, Derek had not been kidding about it being a while. They'd gone at it like convicts on a conjugal visit. Stiles was sore all over. He imagined Derek was the same.

Eyes still closed he felt the bed dip on his side and realized that Derek had walked around the bed to sit on the edge next to him. He peeked out of one eye. Derek was smiling down at him.

"It was amazing wasn't it?" he asked softly. He gently brushed the length of Stiles' jaw with his knuckles. "Is there....umm....can I...I mean can we...."

Stiles shimmied into an upright sitting position, his back against the head board.

"Are you asking if we can do this again?"

Derek blushed and nodded. It was the cutest thing.

"That's what I'm trying to achieve here Derek," Stiles fake whined. "Come back to bed. It's my turn to blow you."

Oddly, that made Derek look disappointed. He did this thing with his face, where he looked like he was about to say something and then reconsidered.  Stiles leaned forward and kissed him, quick press of lips with a nuzzle of the noses.

"Don't agonize over it Derek,' he reassured his ex. "Just tell me. C'mon, it's me here. Spit it out."

Derek gave Stiles a soft look. He seemed vulnerable in a way that Stiles did not know and he thought he knew all of Derek's expressions.

"I don't mean like only just now," Derek began. "I mean...look Stiles I know we're not married anymore and we have separate live but we have this.....well last night was....there are significant issues between us that remain unresolved but we're good at this, so good at this......so maybe we could....you know...work on...or at the very least....we could try to..."

"Yes."

Stiles' interjection nearly startled Derek off the bed.

"Yes?" he questioned?

"Yes," Stiles grinned. "Now climb back in here and let's get an early start."

Derek pulled the sheets back and did just that, straddling Stiles and kissing him filthily with no regard for morning breath. Stiles didn't care. He was giving back as good as he got, hands travelling all over Derek.

The phone began to ring but they ignored it. Then the answering machine kicked in, blaring out Scott's voice annoyingly loud.

"Hey Bro, I'm doing your dad a fave and dropping the kids back to ya but for reasons you are aware of but I can't say out loud, I just drove right by your house and the vehicle parked on the street. I'm gonna circle around to give you some time but we'll be at your door in about five minutes. You'd better be there opening it."

Derek flopped over to the side of Stiles and groaned. "Just when it was getting really good."

Laughing as he clambered out of bed, Stiles bent over and planted a quick kiss on Derek's deflating cock, causing it to stir in hope just a little again.

"It's not like we won't get the chance again, is it?" he asked.

Derek lifted his torso up, propped up on his elbows. "Really?

"Gah! We just talked about it." Stiles rolled his eyes. "How about you come by tonight? We can put the kids to bed together, have a drink, chat and then take each other apart in dirty delicious ways?"

Derek grinned.

By the time Scott and the kids got there (which was a little longer than 5 minutes - thank you Scott!) Derek had already left. Scott however would be forever tagged as forgetting the way to the Hale house as Dylan and Tyler were quick to point out. They rushed to the phone to call the Grandfather to tell him.

"So..." Scott broached carefully, "Derek spent the night?" At Stiles' lecherous grin and nod, he asked, "You two getting back together?"

"What? No man." Stiles denied. "It's just sex."

Disbelief was written all over Scott's face. "You sure 'bout that? I know you two."

"Yeah," Stiles reassured him. "We talked about it and everything. We're just (he looked around to make sure the kids were still out of earshot) fuckbuddies. We've both been dry since so it works. In fact he's coming over tonight."

"Fuckbuddies, huh?" Disbelief was still the only thing showing on Scott's face.

A few miles away, Derek spoke happily into the phone as he called Erica to let her know he was going to be late.

"That's right. Stiles and I are going to give things another try........Of course I'm sure. We talked about it.......I've got a second chance 'Rica. I am going to get my family back."

 

 

THEN:

 

Laura’s laughter echoed loudly in the confines of the car and Derek was always astonished that she could still find joy enough to express out loud, given all that she was facing.  Her laughter was infectious though and by the time he’d pulled into the parking lot for the doctor’s office, he couldn’t help the grin stretched across his face. She took his arm as they walked slowly into the building, and to the casual observer they probably looked like a young couple rather than an ailing sister leaning on her brother for support and strength.

 There were times Derek wondered if the cancer was harder on him than it was on Laura.  Laura had always been a dynamic take-charge person. She was a natural born leader always doing, always moving. When he was a kid, he’d called her ‘bossy’.  Hell, he called her bossy as recently as a couple months ago. She’d just waved him off in response. In the six months since he found out about her illness, Derek had felt his world tilt violently on its axis. Laura was his best friend, his second mom and his anchor.

 Sitting in the waiting room for the doctor to come get them, he looked at his sister to the side of him. She was thinner, paler, and visibly more fragile.  He reflected on how hard it must be for her to slow down, to accept the limitations that the cancer was forcing on her. He had a memory of her after the fire, working twelve plus hour days, coming home after he and Cora had gone to bed. He was usually awake when she came in, but he'd lie in bed and listen to her movements, taking comfort in the sounds of her. She'd heat up some left over dinner and sit at the table reviewing the homework and school forms that she'd insisted that Derek and Cora leave out for her daily. He never went out to greet her if she came in after a certain time, preferring instead to give her those small pockets of solitude where she could just be...where she didn't have to be 'on' for the kids, smiling and strong. There were a couple of times he thought he'd heard soft sobbing and though he longed to go out and comfort her, his guilt about his role in their loss kept him bound to where he was.

 That, plus the fact that he knew she'd be embarrassed for him to see her that way; as anything less than strong. Laura never complained or acted tired. She just did what needed to be done.

 So accepting physical limitations had to be extremely difficult for her

"If you stare at me any harder," she said without looking up from the outdated magazine she'd been skimming, "you're going to bore holes in my head. What's up Derry?"

He smiled at the nickname. He'd hated it growing up. He still did. But it was their thing. She was the only one who used it.

"I just...wonder how you're doing," he said. "You seem stronger at times and it makes me hopeful and then I'm scared because I'm hopeful."

Laura laughed out loud softly.

"Derek Hale actually telling me what he feels?  Oh my God." She joked, "This is my dying wish come true, isn't it?"

"Not funny." Derek growled in a low voice.

Laura reached across and patted her brother on his thigh. "It was hard at first. I didn't want to come to terms with the all the things had changed or stopped for me. You know? I felt that by accepting it, I was letting the cancer win."

Derek snorted. "You? Let something or someone else win? Never."

"I know right?" she grinned. "I'm a winner. I have to win. So I kept doing things the way I always did and this illness kicked my ass. You've seen some of that drama first hand.  I figured it out eventually though. I'm definitely out of the fast track."

"I feel that I need to exercise and be active, which I am doing. I also realize, however, that there are limits which must be respected and so I am also doing that. Sometimes I feel as if I am becoming lazy but when my body tells me 'enough already', I listen and I stop. It's been hard for me and it is a very humbling experience but I'm regaining myself."

"Now I am getting stronger, have more energy and am taking fewer naps. It is truly depressing how little it takes to tire me out and also having to be dependent on others to do so many things for me. But it has been a good lesson, a real learning experience for this _very_ independent woman."

 "You refuse to have chemo or any other treatments other than pain management Laura." This was an argument they'd had several times before.

 "I need to fight my own way Derek. I need to feel some measure of control over my body and my choices until there is none left for me."

 "You cried the night you told us," he mused. "I've never seen you cry other than then."

 "Oh I cry." Laura responded. "I prefer not to, but tears...tears come unexpectedly."

 He reached across and held her hand, squeezing it softly.

 "Nope." She decided. "We're not doing a sobfest."

 She paused as if to measure her words. " Derek what you and Stiles are doing for me...I know this was so not in the works for you two just yet...I can't even begin to tell you..."

 "Hush," he interrupted. "Stiles is truly a wonder isn't he? Sometimes I can't believe he picked me; That he's still with me"

 The last sentence was said more as a note to self rather than a confession.  With her free hand Laura covered Derek's hand where it was holding hers.

 "Tell me," she said and waited.

 "I feel so lost Laura," he said after a moment. "There are things broken inside of me that stop me from feeling things, saying things and I'm so scared that one day Stiles is going to wake up and realize that I've been bluffing all along and he'll leave."

 "What the hell are you talking about Derek? You and Stiles love each other. You are meant to be."

 "Are we?" Derek scoffed. "What do I know about love Laur'? You know what my experience with 'love' has brought me, what it took from us. I can't open myself up to that again. I thought that Stiles and I had the perfect formula, the perfect chemistry but he wants love Laura. He's always just wanted to be loved and if I were any kind of decent human being I'd have never kept him. We'd have had a brief fling in college and then gone our separate ways and he'd have found someone who could give him everything."

 "Is this about Kate?" she asked. "Oh Derry, I can't believe she's still messing with your head after all these years. Don't let her. You are married to your soul mate. You do know love."

 "I once thought that Love was this magical thing that soothed all your pain. But I was wrong and I learnt from that Laura, I swear I did but then I met him and I kept waiting for the fear to push us apart - the fear of being used, of feeling like a thing...a possession. But it never did. Instead I was afraid to go back to a life without him. So I was selfish and I kept him because no one else had ever stopped the hurt but he did."

 "It's so easy for that fucker, Laura. He breezed into my life with his dreams and laughter and words of love. He's fucking perfect and there is no one else for me. In a world where he exists, how could there be? And I try to show him that. I mess up, I know I do. I get caught up in proving myself..."

"You have nothing to prove to anyone Derek," she interrupted.

 "No. I do," he countered. "I need to prove to me that there's a reason I didn't die along with everybody else...that there was a purpose I survived, a mission to be accomplished. So I power along and drag him with me. And I know he'll follow me forever if I could just tell him I love him and I want to tell him; I do but there's something damaged in me that stops me. Oh Laura I wish I could say it. If I could, I would. I swear."

 Laura leaned over and rested her head on his shoulder. "You show him then. Without words. in every possible way."

 Derek must have used up his yearly quota of words in that chat because he was exhausted and simply didn't know what to say.  

 "You know you're sworn to secrecy, right?" he asked after a moment.

 "Don't worry Derek," she quipped. "I'll take this to my grave."

 He rolled his eyes hard. "Again Laura...Not...Funny."

 She started to cackle but just then the medical assistant came out.

 "Hale family?" she asked and when they both nodded, she ushered them to the back rooms adding, "Mr. Stilinski-Hale is already inside"

 The room was dark with the only lighting coming from the equipment but Derek could see Stiles standing next to the bed. He lit up when he saw them.

 "Hey Daddy Hale and Mama Hale," his words spilled out like laughter. "Come meet our babies."

 Derek felt his heart jump into his throat and his feet lock themselves in place. _Babies?_ Stiles must have seen his stunned look because he walked over to Derek and wrapped his arms around his waist whilst Laura headed straight over to the surrogate and the technician. Derek returned the embrace as Stiles tucked his head into Derek's nape.

 "Babies?" he asked.

 "Yup." Stiles stretched the word into two syllables and popped the last one beaming like an idiot. "What can I say? My Stilinski boys are strong swimmers. We're having twins Derek."

 Derek pulled Stiles closer, held him even tighter, his eyes on Laura. He'd never seen her look so happy and excited. He'd never seen her look so alive.  When Stiles had sat him and Laura down and told them that he wanted to try for a baby right away, Derek had been astounded by the never ending generosity of his husband. He remembered the look on Laura's face, the hope that she could be a mother before dying, the concern that it was too much to ask of them but most of all the fear of wanting to have this if she was only going to be disappointed. When Stiles had reassured them that there was nothing he wanted more in the world other than for Laura's cancer to go away, she'd jumped up and squealed, her face alight with happiness and with life. Much like it was now.  

 That night, months ago, Derek had got up, walked across the room and grabbed Stiles's face, holding it in place whilst he kissed him soundly and thoroughly.

 "So I take it you're okay with messing up the schedule a bit?" Stiles had asked jokingly but with a hint of uncertainty.

 "Screw the schedule." he'd responded. "You're incredible."

 And then he'd kissed him again.

 He kissed him then and there in the doctor's office, trying to say with his mouth, everything that he could not find the words to say.  Someone, probably the technician, cleared their throat.

 "Who wants to hear the heartbeats?" she asked before turning up the volume and Derek in that moment believed in magic once again.

 Brushing his lips against Stiles' ear, he said, "Screw the schedule twice over. You're fucking incredible."

 

 


	9. Woke up to reality and found the future not so bright

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys have been so patient and generous and just so you know...your kindness makes my world a happier place to be.

NOW:

Tyler Stilinski-Hale peeked into his Papa’s home office with a stillness and stealth that would make a cat burglar beam with admiration. Once he was sure that his father was completely focussed on the cold case he was currently working on, files spread out on his desk while he clicked away on his laptop, Ty made his way back upstairs with the speed and flailing energy usually associated with him. Sliding into the room he shared with Dylan, he threw a pack of picture cards at his brother.

“Dyl! You wanna play a game of Memory with me?” he asked.

Dylan looked up from the puzzle he was trying to piece together on the floor play mat at the foot of his bed.

“Hmmm…no?” he responded. “I’m five Ty, not stupid. Everybody knows you’ve got a crazy good memory, better than grownups even so you always win. I’m gonna finish this puzzle.”

Tyler got down on the ground across from his brother, the puzzle between them and started putting the puzzle together with Dylan. He was quiet for a while; too quiet. Dylan sighed.

“Okay Ty,” he said. “Tell me.”

It was the opening Tyler had been waiting for. He sat upright, cross-legged, elbows on his knees and chin resting on his palms.

“Do you remember Mama?” he asked. “I mean really remember her and not just the stories Daddy and Papa tell us?”

Dylan pouted just a little before biting his lip.

“No,” he said, sitting up as well and mirroring his brothers pose. “I just know all the stories. And the pictures and home movies. They are kinda like remembering her, right?”

Tyler nodded. “Yeah. Me too. I don’t really remember but I miss her. I wonder about her all the time.”

“Like what?”

“I wonder if we’d be living with her instead. And if Daddy and Papa would still be married if we didn’t live with them.”

Dylan looked at Tyler. They were usually in tune with the other so he’d known something was off from the moment they came home that morning. He didn’t ask though because he knew Ty would tell him. They told each other everything.

“You think they’d still be married if Mama didn’t go to Heaven?” he asked.

“No,” Tyler replied. “I think it’s us. I think they’d still be married if we didn’t live with them.”

Dylan looked at his brother and was just a little bit afraid. Everybody knew that Tyler was stupidly smart. Doctors had been testing his brain like forever and everybody was always amazed at how his brain worked. Dylan was always proud of his brother and was never jealous of his brain, He didn’t need to be. His dads had told him that he had different strengths and that he and Tyler were parts of a team. So where Ty was weak, like in seeing things through to the end or not annoying people, Dylan was strong. Papa had called him a mighty rock and Ty was the restless wind. They made each other better and stronger. So Dylan never doubted the thoughts that came out of Tyler’s brain.

But this was too big, too scary to just go with without understanding.

“Why?” he asked. “Why do you think that?”

Tyler’s voice wobbled a little as he explained. He was never the stronger brother.

“When Mama was alive, she kept us all the time until she was too sick,” he said. “Papa and Daddy were married then. They were married before we were borned too. But then she died and we had to live with them all the time and they stopped being married.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s us.” Dylan argued. “That doesn’t mean anything. You’re a stupid head who doesn’t know everything.”

“Dyl,” Tyler pleaded. “Daddy’s car was parked outside our house this morning. That’s why Uncle Scott drove past it. I saw it! That means that he stayed here last night. What if he stays here every time we have a sleep over? What if they can only be together if we’re not with them?”

The brothers were not identical twins but they looked at each other with identical stricken looks.

*

Miles away there was another brother to brother discussion happening.

“What the hell is wrong with your brain?” Isaac’s face was red with disbelief and concern. “It’s all over Beacon Hills, that you and Stiles are back together. Are you stupid? Did you forget what it did to you the last time you let him in?”

Derek just rolled his eyes. He’d expected to hear from Isaac at some point. It was too much to hope that Erica would not have told Boyd and Isaac. The three of them were still pretty much inseparable after all these years. It was a running joke that Boyd was the Daddy, Erica the Mommy and Isaac their kid; they were that much of a unit.

He hadn’t expected Isaac to come bursting into his office however. Isaac owned and operated a coffee shop in Beacon Hills that was so popular, he was pretty much living there 24/7. So for Isaac to drive out to Derek’s office, it had to mean he was very _very_ worked up.

“Calm down little brother,” Derek urged. “You’re getting ahead of yourself here. I just spent the night. That’s all.”

“So you’re not getting back together?” Isaac sounded hopeful.

“I don’t know yet,” Derek replied. “I hope we are. But we’re not there yet. We’ve agreed to work on it.”

Isaac stopped pacing back and forth in front of Derek’s desk and sat down in one of the chairs across from his brother.

“Der,” he pleaded. “It damn near destroyed you when he kicked you out. It damn near destroyed me to see you suffering so much. Please, for the love of everything good, please do not go down that road again. You won’t , you can’t, survive another round of Stilinski Stupidity.”

Derek’s fingers curled into a tight fist, the only visible sign of emotion. His voice was calm and soft.

“Isaac, we’re brothers and I know you’re saying this because you care. You’ve been saying it from the very first day you met him. I have never understood this animosity between you two and I will grant that during the years of my marriage you were civil and even kind, but you need to let me fix my family. Stiles is…”

He was about to say ‘everything’ but that stopped being true once the boys were born. His family was everything to him.

“Stiles is the father of my sons,” he amended. “He is my strength and my joy. He is my life. That never changed even when my marital status did. I have a chance to have my family back; To be happy again. I’m going to take it Isaac. I’d be a fool not to. So, I hear you but you need to get over this aversion you have to Stiles.”

Isaac leaned forward in the chair, elbows on the armrest and fingers steepled and pressed against his lips.

“I’m not averse to Stiles, Der. In fact I quite like him. I think he’s a great guy but just not for you.”

“No Derek, really hear me out,” he pressed as Derek moved to interrupt him. “Stiles scares me. He always has. You’ve been the most amazing brother to me and I was so lucky when you came into my life. You changed my destiny Derek and I want only happiness for you. But I could tell, from the moment I met him, that it’d be all or nothing with you. I could see from the way you looked at him that he had to power to devastate you and it scared me. And you know what? He did. If you didn’t have the boys to focus on, your break up would have killed you. I met you after Kate happened and I saw your walls and your pain and the magnitude of it. I could never understand why you’d turn around and place your faith and trust in this kid who couldn’t possibly know what he wanted. And it scared me. It still scares me.”

“He simply wanted me,” Derek said. “He simply wanted me to love him.”

Isaac tilted his head. “Well that’s the thing now isn’t it? You care, you feel, you protect, you provide but love Derek? I’ve never heard you claim to love anything. Not your job, your sons, your life, our sisters, not me. Now I can live without the label. I’m happy enough that you care. But your Stiles, he wants what you can’t give and what happens when he decides once again that he wants the words more than he wants you?”

The look on Derek’s face was eerily similar to the ones his sons had shared.

 

 

THEN:

 

Laura loved being a mother. Even confined as she was to her bed, her eleven month old boys crawling over her blanketed legs, she was laughing more than she ever had before. There wasn’t much mothering she could provide these days, nothing compared like the early months where she was actively engaged in the feedings and diaper changes and even the lifting and playing games with them. Now she got to hold them as they napped on her bed, and she got wet kisses all over her faces. She called them her puppies.

She’d heard that it was hard for parents to let go as kids grew up and didn’t need as much hands-on care. A friend had described it as going from playing the game for the kids to coaching them on how to play, to watching the game on the sidelines and then the bleachers to sometimes not even being in the stadium but at home watching it on TV. She never got to go through all those stages. And she’ll never see her kids grow up. Instead she got courtside seats which allowed her to be close to the action but never a part of it.

But you know what? It was enough. It was a lot more than she thought she’d get to have and she was grateful for every minute. She’d already out lived the doctors predictions by several months and though she was definitely on the decline (her room looked like a makeshift hospital room with assistive breathing apparatus around her bed to help her out when she needed it), she was optimistic enough (and stubborn enough) to believe that she’d be around to celebrate the twins first birthday with them. She wanted that more than anything.

It was silly but she wanted the ridiculous party hats and balloons and the candles on the cake like it was air. She wanted so badly to be in the pictures they’d take and to be able to smear frosting on their faces and to complain about how much sugar they were consuming. She chuckled to herself at her flights of fancy.

The flash of the camera reminded her that she wasn’t alone with the boys in the room. Cora had taken some time off from her life in South America to stay with Laura. She was a photo journalist who’d been recognized for her works on life in the Amazon. These days, she was chronicling Laura’s days of motherhood.

“I don’t know what that smile was about Laur’ but I think that’s going to be my favourite shot.”   Cora was smiling herself as she said it.

“How many pictures are you going to take?” Laura asked jokingly. “I’m the one putting these things into albums, you know.”

She had been. Although Cora had digital copies of the pictures, she’d engaged Laura in creating ‘picture books’ for the boys to have. Laura had been handwriting notes to her sons and putting them in the albums as well. Some were just thoughts on the pictures themselves, some were bits of advice for future use and some were memories of her own childhood and her versions of stories about their dads. She was trying to leave as much of herself behind for the boys.

“You gotta earn your keep big sis,” Cora retorted. “Oh by the way, Stiles is coming over later than he originally said but he’s spending the night here in the Preserve with us. He’s not sure if Derek will make until tomorrow afternoon. He’s on a site visit out of state and he’s got that meeting with the lawyers about your stuff in the morning.”

Laura frowned. Initially Derek had been wonderful. He’d been the perfect new father and things between him and Stiles were obviously the best they’d ever been. Over the past couple months though, as her deterioration became more and more noticeable, he’d begun withdrawing, spending less time with her, with Stiles and with the boys. He’d been justifying it by claiming to be getting things in place and the demands of his job but she could tell his walls were going back up as he braced himself for the inevitable. He was distancing himself as if that would make it all hurt less.

She sighed. Poor Derek, she thought. A couple times she’d caught Stiles stealing these glances at Derek with this wistful yet disappointed expression and she knew…she just knew that they were fighting about Derek’s retreat. It couldn’t possibly be any easier for Stiles. He had to be reliving what he went through with his mother but ever the brave little soul, Stiles sucked it up and was there front and center of their lives, no matter how much it pained him.

“Cora,” she called out as she tossed a soft edge toy to Dylan, “Can you get in touch with Derek and tell him I need him here early? I’ve got some business matters I’d like to discuss with him.”

Cora, who was putting away her camera, turned and picked up Tyler (who’d been trying to climb down off the bed).   Holding her nephew in her arms, she nodded and headed out of the room.

Dylan had crawled up into her lap and was holding out the toy to her. She took it and gently tickled his belly causing him to squeal in delight.

“That’s right Dill Pickle,” she said softly to her son. “I’ve got some business for your father indeed. He needs to get his head out of his behind.”

Dylan giggled in what Laura interpreted as agreement. “Smart boy. You totally get that from your Mama!”


	10. When You Think Of Laura, Laugh, Don't Cry...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only three more weeks until my schedule changes and I can have more time to write. Thanks for sticking with this story. You have no idea how much I appreciate it and you.

NOW:

“You’re stewing again.”

The Sheriff had been in middle of clearing the table when he looked over at his son and caught him lost in his thoughts which were obviously not happy ones. The deep V to the frown on his forehead and the downward curl to his lips spoke to anger rather than any other feeling.

Stiles eyes darted to his dad and then he rolled them as he let out a big sigh.

“Sorry Dad. I’m so distracted,” he explained. “But I am glad you could come over for dinner without any kind of notice really. I cooked way too much stuff.”

The older Stilinski smiled.  “It just means I’d be eating it tomorrow if I couldn’t make it tonight. I know you son. You’d be packing it all up in containers and dropping it off for me at the station.”

Stiles agreed, nodding his head.

“Actually, there’s still enough for you to pack up. You know where the Tupperware is. How about  we put some aside for you to take with you when you're ready to head out. For now though, why don't you grab your coffee and sit here with your son and chill for a bit.”

The Sheriff did just that, sitting down across from Stiles, at the kitchen island where they’d eaten. He’d been surprised when Stiles had called him with the last minute invitation. In fact he’d already pulled out the vegetables and chicken he was going to use for his planned Stir-Fry dinner when Stiles had phoned, but there was a brittle edge to his son’s voice that had him accepting the invitation. He knew Stiles well enough to know when something was bothering him.

So he packed away his groceries, grabbed his keys and headed over to his son’s house. Stiles was still cooking when he got there but the boys kept him entertained. Once the food was done, the two adults opted to feed, bathe and tuck the kids in before settling in to eat their own meal. It was a little later than usual but dinner was good, even if conversation was on the sparse side. He sipped his coffee quietly, figuring Stiles would say what he wanted when he wanted. The kids were down for the night, he wasn't in a rush to get anywhere, he could wait. He was good at waiting.

"Derek was supposed to come over tonight." Stiles began. "We made plans this morning to have dinner together with the kids and then we'd get them ready for bed, read them a couple stories. After we tucked them in, he and I were supposed to pour ourselves a couple whiskeys and just hang out."

"Together," he added, as if the Sheriff may not have understood that. Which he did. He wasn't exactly sure if 'hanging out' really meant 'hanging out' or if it meant more than hanging out. But he got that he was an eleventh hour substitute for a no-show Derek.

"So what am I doing here then?" he asked Stiles.

Stiles took a couple swallows of his coffee instead of answering right away. The Sheriff thought he might have been sifting through the events trying to find his own answers.

"Would you believe he cancelled because of work?" Stiles voice was flat.

 _'Oh shit,'_ thought the Sheriff but he didn't share that. He knew about the fights Derek and Stiles had over Derek's work ethic when they were married and he couldn't believe that Derek would do this now, when for the first time since the split, Stiles was inviting him back in again. What was wrong with that idiot? He may just  have to have some words with the man in question.

"What happened?" he asked.

"He called saying that there was an accident at one of the sites he was monitoring and that he needed to be there because someone was hurt. He...ummm....said he really wanted to be here....that it was important to him to be here and if he could get out of it, he would, but there were liability issues and some other stuff...I think I stopped listening at that point."

"Why?" the older man asked, even though he was pretty sure he knew the answer.

"It felt too familiar Dad." Stiles said. "I mean this time he did sound truly apologetic, and I'll be fair enough to admit that that, right there, was different. When we were married, his apologies never sounded sincere.  He'd say he was sorry but I could always tell that he felt as if I should understand, that he shouldn't have to apologize because it was in line with the plan and I always knew what the plan was. But the apology today was different."

There was something more that Stiles wasn't saying. The Sheriff could sense that it was something else bothering Stiles.

"Different is good, right?" he offered.

Stiles sighed.

"Yeah, different is good...only I wasn't, Dad. I reacted the same way I did in the past. I got angry and ripped into him for disappointing his family yet again. I said things to him that I shouldn't have. I told him I was happy at least I hadn't told the kids and set them up for yet another Daddy Heartbreak which is unfair because he's been really amazing with them. It's just with me that he doesn't seem to be able to get it right with."

"But this time was different, right Stiles? You said he was sincere. That's progress."

Stiles put down his mug and pushed it away from him.

"Progress? Derek's grown and changed in some ways, yes. But what about me Dad? I was the same whiny, shrewish, insecure moron I was back then.   I thought I was past all that but there's just something about Derek that brings out the worst in me.  I was hoping that...well....it doesn't matter what I was thinking. Tonight just proves that it doesn't matter. Derek and I just can't work."

"You're being ridiculous Son." His dad just shook his head. "You can't just throw in the towel on the first try. I raised you better than that. You can reschedule and try again."

"But it's not the first try Dad." Stiles protested. "I've practically spent my entire adult life _trying_ with Derek. Maybe it's time I stopped."

"I thought you stopped a while ago Son. Isn't that why you ended your marriage?"

Stiles didn't have an answer for that. Long after his dad left, loaded up with food filled containers and a warm hug, Stiles still didn't have an answer.  He took an extra long shower hoping to wash away some of his disappointment and confusion. It didn't help.

After tossing and turning for a bit in his bed, Stiles gave up and headed downstairs to the kitchen.  Hot chocolate was a cure for everything, right? As he waited for the milk to come to a boil, he could see a set of lights turning into his driveway.  Puzzled, he made his way over to the front door wondering if his Dad had come back. He opened the door but it wasn't the Sheriff standing in his doorway.

It was Derek.

 

  

THEN:

They were fighting when the call came; of course they were. Fighting was all they ever did anymore. What really bothered Stiles though was the slight sense of shame he felt. It coloured his grief.  He had after all been in the middle of screaming at Derek about the lack of intimacy in their marriage…about the lack of sex really. 

He told himself that he was right to feel neglected, because Derek had been keeping ridiculous hours which kept him away from the house for extended periods and when he was available, he spent all his time with Laura. Stiles didn’t begrudge the brother and sister any time that they could eke out of what was left – he really didn’t. He got it, okay? But most of Derek’s time was spent on work related things and arguing with lawyers over her estate. Was he wrong for thinking maybe Derek could give up an hour of two of work stuff to do stuff with Stiles?

And if you dig down deep enough, even if the fight had been specifically about sex, the issue wasn’t about being horny and unsatisfied or sexually frustrated. The issue was bigger than that.  Derek knew that the twins now lived at home full time because Laura took a turn for the worse after the twins’ birthday party and the Hale house was not an appropriate environment for them. That meant Stiles was looking after them 24/7 (he still took them over to visit every other day or so, if Laura was having a decent day) and Derek was  _never around to help him out_.

He didn’t think he was asking for too much, and truly, if Derek had been spending every waking hour at Laura’s bedside, maybe, just maybe, Stiles would have been able to find more patience, more energy. But he wasn’t, he was still putting in as many hours at work as he always had, and some weeks, even more.  On the days when Stiles was feeling generous, he attributed that to Derek’s not wanting to face what his sister was dealing with and his heart ached for what his husband must be going through. On the days when he was overly tired, out of patience and frustrated with having to handle two toddlers with very different personality and needs, without support and without a freaking break sometimes (which was more often than not, lately), he’d snipe that not even family, illness and death could distract Derek from his five and ten year plans.

The fight had been on one of those days.

“I swear to fucking God Derek, it’s like you don’t even remember that you have a husband and kids to come home to!”

Stiles was dangerously close to Derek, jabbing an angry finger into his well sculpted chest.  Apparently he couldn’t find time to spend with Stiles and the kids but he somehow still made it to the gym on a regular basis. That pectoral was fine.

“I mean, when was the last time we got naked together?” Stiles fumed. “It’s like I’m married to my hand for all the action I get.”

Derek stepped back, swatting Stiles’ finger away with the back of his hand.

“And you think screaming at me is going to make me want to be here more often?” his tone was laced with scorn. “You think this shrewish behaviour is attractive? That it’s going to make me want to jump you?”

Stiles raked a hand through his hair in utter frustration. “You keep missing the point Derek!”

“And what’s the point?” he shot back. “If the house and two kids are too much to deal with, we can hire a bloody house keeper to help out.”

“Oh and am I going to hire outside help for the other stuff too Derek?” Stiles threw his hands up in the air. “Am I? Do you know where I can rent a husband for all my overnight needs?”

“Don’t be fucking ridiculous!” Derek rolled his eyes hard and the words came out like he didn’t believe Stiles could be anything but ridiculous. “Why does this have to come back to sex? The more you push this, the less inclined I feel to jump under the sheets with you.”

“So we’ll do it on top of the sheets! Or we can go at it on the floor; or maybe the couch; or maybe up against the blasted wall. Hell Derek, I don’t care if you bend me over the counter and take me with only your zipper undone! It would just be so nice to be fucking touched for a change.”

The silence that fell on the room at that pronouncement was a heavy coarse blanket.

After a moment, Stiles said softly, “You’re not the only one hurting here Derek. Maybe I just want to be held. Maybe I need someone to comfort me so I can stop being the one giving comfort for a second, you know?”

Derek’s breath caught in his chest, like a shard of a blade trapped in his lungs. He lifted a hand, as if reaching out to Stiles but the jarring ring of the telephone had him freezing in place. Their eyes locked onto each other’s. The phone rang, once, then twice and on the third ring his outstretched fingers curled into a tight fist and he lowered his arm.

“Please don’t answer that,” pleaded Stiles under his breath, but Derek had already turned around, heading off to the phone.

Stiles watched as Derek lifted the receiver out of its cradle, his back to Stiles, and grunted out a greeting.  And then it was as if there was a sudden shift in universe. Stiles felt, rather than heard, the heavy pounding in his ears in the way some emergency alarms are pulsating jabs of noise. Only there was no noise just this overwhelming throbbing that may or may not have been his heart. He couldn’t say. He’d been too focussed on the way that Derek’s shoulders tensed as his head fell forward. He started walking towards Derek without even realizing it. 

The hand holding the phone fell to Derek’s side and then his knees gave way. Derek dropped down as if kneeling, most of his body still upright and as Stiles shouted his name, his torso turned to face Stiles. He had the look of a man in those TV shows or movies who’d been shot and they knew it but they couldn’t quite believe it, even as their life slipped away from them. By the time Stiles had reached him, Derek was crouched down, still on his knees but in a fetal position, his body shaking with grief and agony.

Stiles had his arms wrapped around Derek when he heard it. The gut wrenching sounds being torn from Derek speared into him. His husband, the robot with a plan, the man who didn’t do feelings, was crying, no… he was bawling like a baby.

“She was my best friend,” he sobbed. “All my life, she was my best and truest friend. She was my mother when I no longer had one. She was my sister, my saviour and fuck it Stiles, she was my best friend. I didn’t feel like an orphan when my parents were killed because she didn’t let me, you know? But I’m an orphan now. I'm an orphan now.”

As Derek dissolved into a fit of what could only be described as howling, Stiles just tightened his hold on his husband, his own weeping, a silent trail of wetness, streaming down his cheeks.

That was the first and last time he’d seen Derek cry. There were a couple overlong showers for Derek that Stiles suspected may have involved release that was definitely not sexual but after he’d cried himself dry in Stiles’s arms that day, Derek had gotten up, dusted himself off and then gotten down to the business of the funeral.

Now sitting in the front row of the service, listening to Peter give the eulogy that should have rightfully been done by Derek, a sleeping child in his lap, Stiles could feel the press of his husband along the side of his body. He was pressed close enough that he could feel tenseness in Derek’s muscles;, he could feel the slight shift as Derek took deep slow breaths to help him through the service. He was close enough to smell the faint tones of Derek’s aftershave. Stiles was so physically close to Derek that he could tell that there in that moment, his husband had never been so emotionally far away.

 

 


	11. What have I, what have I, what have I done to deserve this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been an absolute ass I know. I meant to update this a long time ago but my assignment that was supposed to start Jun 2 doesn't actually start now until Jul 7 and I've been sunk with work stuff. So, unable to wrap my head around the story developments, I've been reading more than writing and trolling tumblr trying to hide. I'm sorry. Thank you for your patience and for the gentle prompts. This chapter is very different from when I started writing it but I hope you like it.

NOW:

He gently placed the mug of steaming hot coffee on a coaster on the nightstand, before moving down to the foot of the bed. Sitting cross legged there, he carefully sipped from his own cup. From where he sat, Stiles let his eyes travel up the long, broad length of his former husband, who was still sleeping soundly. That would change soon, despite the quiet of the morning and the dimmed light courtesy of the still drawn shades prolonging what was a very interesting night for Stiles.  The coffee on the nightstand was a thing they did, dating back to the college years when only the siren call aroma of fresh brewed dark roast could pull either man out of the abyss of slumber after a study bender.

Stiles took a moment to appreciate the sight of Derek, sprawled out on the bed wearing nothing but his boxer briefs, legs tangled in the bed covers. Damn! The man was beautiful.  There was something about the way all that smooth skin was stretched taut over well corded muscles that had heat pooling at the core of him. His eyes lingered on the thick ink spirals that marked Derek’s back, a triskelion representing different things to different people. To Derek it meant the past, the present and the future. When they’d first started dating, he’d jokingly asked if he fell into the ‘future’ swirl, or the ‘present’ swirl and Derek had answered ‘Both”.  Stiles suppressed the urge to touch the naked skin and given their history, acknowledged that he’d crossed over into the swirl representing the past.

Could that change? When Derek had turned up at his door last night, Stiles had been a mixed bag of emotions. He’d been disappointed because he’d held high hopes for the dinner as a start of drawing closer once more. He didn’t want to think too much about getting back together but he couldn’t stop thinking about it either. _This was Derek!_ But he was also not surprised about being disappointed because… _this was Derek!_   Being used to disappointment was something he needed to move away from. There was no way he was signing up for a repeat of his miserable marriage.

Yet Derek on his doorstep, visibly tired, hungry and looking like he’d moved heaven and earth to get back to Stiles and their children, tugged at strings in his heart in a way his hurt couldn’t drown out. For the first time in a long time, he actually believed that Derek had made an effort to be there with him – an effort that was outside of the plan. In the past, Stiles’ major complaint was that he’d been fitted into a predetermined slot in Derek’s life plan. Last night however, it seemed as if Derek was rearranging his life plan at considerable cost in order to carve out a place for his family. Stiles was stunned.

So Stiles let him in. He fed him some leftovers, had him shower, loaned him a pair of boxer briefs and then he let his ex-husband pass out in his bed. He'd run the dirty clothes through a quick ‘wash and dry’ while Derek slept.  Stiles didn’t immediately crawl into bed next to him though despite the late hour, but he’d sat in the chair in the corner watching Derek sleep for a while.

Derek looked years younger in sleep, his face and body relaxed, his eyebrows unfurled. Seeing him like this, after such a long time apart, made Stiles reminisce and yearn for something lost and for something they never quite had.  Sometime during the course of the night he fell asleep on the chair, dreaming dreams he'd thought he'd given up on. Sometime during the course of the night Derek must have gotten up and found him there because when Stiles woke up that morning, he was snuggly ensconced in his bed, Derek's warm body pressed up against his length. How he found the will power to crawl out of that cocoon and make his way down to the kitchen to start coffee, he did not know.

A shuffling noise travelled from down the corridor and through the open door causing him to smile. The boys were up and it gave him a little jolt of pleasure to think how happy they'd be to have a full family breakfast for a change. He was just about to call them into the bedroom when the sounds of furtive whispering caught his attention. Grinning, he got up quietly and tiptoed to the door to see what they were up to.  Sticking his head out the doorway, we could see both boys, each dragging a backpack stuffed to capacity in one hand and a toy in the other, making their way to the stairs. 

Curious and concerned, Stiles walked out into the hallway to watch them. Were they trying to run away? The sleeve of a long sleeved t-shirt hanging out of Tyler's backpack suggested that they'd definitely packed clothing and the sneaky measured steps with which they were moving, meant they didn't want to be caught. What the hell was going on?

"What the hell is going on?" Stiles' voice was loud in the relative quiet of the house.

Both boys squeaked. Dylan dropped his bag and ran to his father, wrapping his little arms around Stiles' knees.

"I'm sorry Papa," he sobbed. "I'm sorry. I told Ty I didn't want to leave but he said it was the only way."

Dylan had broken down into a full blown crying fit by this point but Tyler stood his ground, looking defiantly at Stiles.

Stiles stooped down and sat cross legged on the floor, placing the coffee cup he was still holding off to the side of them. He pulled Dylan into his lap and comforted him without taking his eyes off of Tyler.

"Ty," he said softly, "you want to come over here and tell me what's going on?"

Tyler didn't move an inch. He shook his head resolutely but now he wouldn't meet Stiles' eyes. Stiles could see the sheen of wetness in Ty's eyes though.

"C'mon Ty," he coaxed. "Your old man needs a hug from his boys. I am sorely in need of some love from my boys. Do you have a hug you can give me?"

The munchkin hesitated before letting go of his bag and toy, and barrelling into his papa, arms locking tight around Stiles' neck.

They stayed there like that for a couple minutes, Stiles offering physical comfort and understanding because he couldn't find words to pull out of his confusion to deal with this. What is his life sometimes, he wondered. Some days he just didn't have a clue when it came to parenting.

"Tell me guys, what were you doing? Where were you going?" he asked. "It looked like you two were going to leave your Papa all alone here."

Dylan wiped his nosed on his sleeve before telling Stiles about Tyler's theory on how their dads would get back together if they weren't around. Tyler didn't say a word throughout the telling but burrowed his face into his father's neck, scared and ashamed.

By the time Dylan was done, Stiles was crying as much as his sons. He felt as if his heart had been ripped into countless tiny pieces. How could he have screwed things up so badly that the twins thought he'd be happier without them? What were the signs that he missed? He squeezed them even tighter, as he struggled to find the words.

"Dyl, Ty....no...you have to know....no....there is no way that I could ever be happy without you," he tried. "You two are everything....your dad and I.....we....it has nothing to do with you...you have to see...'

Oh fuck, he was failing at this so badly. He was only making it worse!

Then he felt it - the presence at his back sliding slowly up to him, the strong arms circling around him to hold not only him but the twins as well, the nose nuzzling into the nape of his neck and the lips pressing a quick soft kiss of reassurance on his back shoulder before pulling away.

"What your Papa is trying to tell you, is that you two monsters are the most important people in our lives. You are truly our main source of joy and your leaving would only bring us pain and we could never be happy without you."

Derek's voice was sure and steady and the best sound in the world just then to Stiles.

"Daddy!" "Daddy!" Both boys were screaming in delight when they realized Derek was actually there with them. They clambered over Stiles to get some sort of grip on Derek. They didn't leave Stiles lap though.

"Even though we don't all live together," Derek continued, "it doesn't mean that we are not a family. We will always be a family."

"You promise?" asked Tyler, who it seemed had found his voice again. He looked Derek straight in the eye as if to measure the truth of his response.

"I promise." Derek's voice was soft but firm with conviction and Stiles heart did a somersault at the sound of it.  "I also promise that we'll do more family things together, just the four of us. I will block time off on my calendar just for the four of us and we'll do things or we'll do nothing."

"It doesn't matter as long as we're together." Derek's voice choked on that. He hoped Stiles would go along with him on this.

Dylan looked over Stiles' shoulder to his Daddy. "Do you have your laptop Daddy?"

"I do," came the response. "It's in the car. Why?"

"If you get it," Dylan said, "we can make appointments in your appointment calendar right now and label it Stilinski-Hale Important Family Meetings. That way you won't forget. Aunty Erica will make you remember."

Derek's heart broke that his child needed that extra reassurance.

 "I'll go get it right now."  He moved to get up but Stiles grabbed his hand, stopping him. 

Twisting around to face Derek, Stiles gave him a little smile which said he knew exactly what Derek was feeling.

"How about we get some breakfast first?" Stiles suggested. "Choosing the right time for our family outings is some very important decision making and absolutely no important decisions should be made on an empty stomach. Why, that's just asking for trouble."

Later if you asked him, Derek would tell you he fell for Stiles all over again in that moment and that there were a million emotions he wanted to express just then but didn't. Instead, he leaned forward and placed the gentlest of kisses on Stiles temple, hoping Stiles would know.

Stiles blushed prettily before launching into tickling the boys and shouting, "Who wants pancakes?"

"Pancakes!" both kids reciprocated the yelling before pealing down the stairs to the kitchen, leaving their fathers sitting in the hallway, mostly undressed looking at each other with stupid sheepish grins on their lips and hope sparkling in their eyes.

 

Then:

The ticking of the second hand of the clock hanging on the office wall, was a metronome that measured the pace of Derek's fingertips as they tapped out a rhythm against the wooden armrest of the chairs. The same clock told him he'd been sitting in absolute silence for exactly twenty-seven minutes. Now sitting in silence was not unusual for him. He actually quite enjoyed it and often used periods of soundless reflection to analyze his problems and plan next steps. However, given that he was currently being charged an exorbitant amount of money by the hour to sort through the mind-fuck that was currently his life, the quiet was really beginning to irritate him.

"Aren't you supposed to ask me things?"

Morrell looked up from the notepad she was scribbling in. He assumed she was scribbling. She could have been drawing nudes for all he knew. They were sitting in chairs facing each other with a small coffee table between them. The notepad was in her lap but she had crossed her legs so there was an angle to the notepad that prevented him from seeing what was on it. He'd bet good money that the positioning was deliberate. She seemed devious like that

"I did." The therapist tilted her head and raised an eyebrow at him. "I asked you if I could call you Derek when you came in. You said yes."

He couldn't help the eye roll. “Aren’t you supposed to ask me other insightful queries that prod me to self-examine and discover solutions to my problems?"

This time the eye roll was from her.

"Ah! So that's why we're here," she dead panned. "Well let's get started then. What are your so-called problems?"

And that was sarcasm. Yes he was pretty sure it was, since his time with Stiles had made him somewhat of an expert on sarcasm. Derek glared at her. He was so killing Erica for suggesting this therapist. After Laura’s death the distance between him and Stiles seemed to grower wider by the minute. Even though he was pretty sure he was to blame, he couldn’t seem to cross that Great Divide back to the place where he and Stiles were laughing again. So when Erica and Boyd suggested outside help, he was skeptical but they convinced him it couldn’t possibly hurt. Erica even went so far as to set up this appointment; which was so not working out the way he thought it would. She was so, so dead…or at the very least, so, so fired.

Morrell smiled as if she could hear his thoughts as clearly as if he'd said them out loud. This made him wonder if he had actually said them out loud.

"There are many different ways to approach just about everything, Derek," she said. "Usually I would ask questions if I can tell the client is having trouble sorting through their issues. To help them prioritize what they'd like to focus on."

"With you however, I feel that may be unnecessary." She scribbled some more on the notepad. "You know why you're here. You know what you want to address. I was just giving you time to mentally package what you want to share."

She paused and he wondered if that was just for dramatic effect. "Tell me what you want to say Derek."

His irritation just seemed to grow. Her tone was hitting all the wrong buttons.

"My life is falling apart," he stated flatly. "I'm here because my life is disintegrating into shards of nothingness."

She smiled and squinted as she looked at him.

"Now that was disappointing," she said. "Poetic and yet still disappointing. I expected more from you. Try again."

He side eyed her for a moment to convey how much he did not like the talking now that they were actually talking but he did as she requested.

"I recently suffered a loss; my sister. It was not unexpected but it was still devastating."

"Better," she smiled. It was kind this time. "Knowing the blow is coming does not make it less painful when it does come, Derek. Knowing beforehand simply gives you time to prepare for how you receive it and how you survive it."

"I don't think I did either well." The admission cost him. He hated admitting to not doing anything well. "I focussed on settling her affairs before and then...and then I just lost myself after."

"That sounds pretty standard in terms of how most people deal,” she countered. “We tend to focus on the things we can control to compensate for the things we cannot. Why do you think it was poorly done?"

Derek felt a little guilty for being relieved that she didn't tell him right off the bat that he'd screwed up. It was a measure of validation that he hadn't known that he was looking for.

"My sister, Laura, was everything to me for so long. After most of my family was...after they passed," he wasn't ready to talk about Kate yet. "She was my mother, my sister, my best friend. And now she's gone and I feel alone but I shouldn't. I have a family - a husband, two sons. I know I'm not alone but it feels as if something is wrong with me. I feel like I've failed her because she was too beautiful to die so young and it should have been me because I gave her so much trouble. And now I'm failing my family but I can't find what I need to fix this inside me because it feels like there is nothing inside me."

Derek took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Morrell remained silent as if giving him a chance to catch his breath, as if waiting for more. When it looked like there wasn’t any more coming from Derek just yet, she leaned over and touched his knee in a gesture meant to comfort as much as it was to get his attention.

"Norman Cousins was a world peace advocate, a professor and a political journalist. He was an activist who had interesting philosophies on several aspects of life. Of everything he wrote or said though, my favourite was about death. _Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live._ "

Derek thought about what that meant but couldn't see it. His greatest losses in life had all been tied to the death of his family. If things with Stiles imploded like they seemed to be on track to doing, then that too would be a loss related to death since it would be fallout from Laura's death. He knew there was a message in there for him somewhere but he couldn’t read it. _Stiles would have been able to figure it out – he’s so good with clues and puzzles._ The thought came unbidden into his mind but he couldn’t deny the truth of it. His husband had always been the smarter of the pair of them.

He looked at her and waited; for what, he didn’t know.

She looked at him and waited. Nothing came from him.

Eventually she sighed and got up, walking over to her desk. She placed the notepad on top of it before reaching into a bottom drawer and pulling out what looked like a journal bound in brown leather. Book in hand, she returned to her seat, where she looked at Derek in silence a little longer.

“Derek,” she started. “We both know that there is so much that you’re not sharing with me. Things that go a long way back to before Laura’s death, to before the loss of your family. The things you will actually share here won’t be the things that matter. They won’t be the things that will lead you to understanding. And that’s okay. You should only share what you’re comfortable sharing.”

 “Something tells me though that you’re not generally comfortable sharing even basic information. So here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to share with you.”

 She held out the book to him, which he took carefully. It was indeed a leather bound journal. He flipped through the pages to find them all blank. When he looked up to her, she was looking at that damned clock on the wall.

 “There are fifteen or so minutes left to our session,” she said. “You can begin here if you like but I feel that you may prefer to do this in the solitude of your own space.”

 He frowned, unsure of what ‘this’ actually was supposed to be. Was he supposed to write in this journal for her to read? That certainly wasn’t happening.

 “Derek, what Cousins meant is that our experience in life changes us. Innocence is lost, our hearts harden, and trust evaporates. We survive the death of those we love despite the magnitude of the loss we feel. However, we do not survive our own death. If it comes all at once, then we’re done, it doesn’t matter. Generally though, we die in little pieces – a broken heart, a betrayed trust, a learned fear. And with every piece of us that dies, we become less of who we truly are and this, this Derek is the greatest loss in our lives.”

 She sat up straight and adjusted her jacket.

 “I want you to write what you feel in this journal. It doesn’t matter what it is, how trivial, how significant, how nonsensical. If you feel it, write it. No one else will see it. This is just for you; a way to store the little pieces of you that you’re losing daily. You can let it all out and never see it again or you can revisit it to seek understanding. It’s just for you Derek.”

 True to form, Derek didn’t trust the instructions.

“Will I need to bring it to our next session?” he asked. (When did he decide there would be a next session? He wasn’t sure but it felt right.)

 “No,” she replied. “Why would you? It’s for your eyes only. At our next session we can sit in silence and not talk about how you felt when writing and totally ignore your relationship with your husband and sons.”

 He couldn’t help the smile that sneaked out of one corner of his mouth. She smiled back at him.

 The leather felt warm and pliant in the grip of his fingertips. This was for him. No one else would know what he wrote. He nodded at Morrell. So okay, maybe Erica wasn’t fired anymore.


End file.
